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elikajinnie · 3 days ago

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Steal Your Way To My Heart - N.R (Part 4)

P: Bankrobber! Ni-ki X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Murder, Violence, Blood, Angst, Kidnapping, Seperation Anxiety?, Ni-ki just wanna spoil you.

Synopsis: Your life was boring—until a visit to the bank changes everything. Now you find yourself under the attention of one of the criminals. Now what do you do when the criminal's attention isn't just on the job but on you?

a/n: okay, so by popular vote, i delivered :) this was supposed to be posted long time ago, but moms turkish drama kept distracting me and had some relationship issues >:(

part 1 part 2 part 3

So you were officially Ni-ki’s girlfriend. And things were... surprisingly good. After that heist, he seemed to tone things down. Gone were the days of reckless, dangerous heists; now, he was the boyfriend you never expected—someone who picked you up from work or school, bought you your favorite flowers, and took you out on regular dates, always paying for the bill without a second thought.

He was thoughtful, attentive, but still had that intensity about him that kept you on your toes. But it wasn’t all just normal date nights and sweet moments. Ni-ki had an eye for luxury, and he wasted no time in decking you out in designer clothes and diamonds. Most of it you didn’t really use—you only wore the pieces that you truly loved—but you had to admit, his taste was impeccable. He knew exactly what suited you.

And like him, you found yourself matching with him often. He’d buy you clothes from the same brands he adored—mainly Chrome Hearts—and soon enough, you both became a walking, matching advertisement for the brand, with your outfits perfectly coordinated. Every time you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help but appreciate how well everything fit. The diamonds glittered just as much as the smile Ni-ki gave you when he saw you in them.

But you always took a moment to remind him that you weren’t with him for the money. It wasn’t the luxury or the endless pampering that had won your heart, although you couldn’t deny you enjoyed it. No, you loved Ni-ki for who he was.

“Ni-ki,” you would say, catching his gaze as you adjusted the diamond necklace he had given you, “I don’t need all this.” You gestured to the designer clothes and the jewelry. “I love everything you get me, even if its something simple.”

He would smile, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, and pull you into a gentle embrace. “I know,” he’d reply, his voice soft and warm. “But I still want to spoil you.”

And he did. Ni-ki was everything you could have wanted in a man and more. He was protective, attentive, and incredibly loving in his own way. He listened when you talked about your day, made sure you had everything you needed, and never hesitated to show you just how much you meant to him. His love was sometimes overwhelming, but always real.

So you were quite surprised when, out of nowhere, Ni-ki disappeared. It wasn’t even gradual—it was like he just had been erased from existence overnight.

Your calls didn’t go through. Every message you sent was met with silence. The usual places where you’d expect to find him were void of any sign of him.

It was as though he had vanished off the face of the earth.

At first, you tried not to panic. Maybe he was laying low, being cautious because of something related to his “work.” It wasn’t uncommon for him to disappear for a day or two without much explanation. But this… this was different. Days stretched into weeks, and there was no trace of him.

The house plants he bought you started to wilt. The flowers he’d shower you with dried out in their vases. Even the expensive gifts that once felt like tokens of his love now felt like hollow remnants of someone who wasn’t there.

You told yourself to stop worrying, to trust that Ni-ki would show up like he always did. But there was this gnawing feeling in your chest that something was wrong. The man who never let a single detail slip, who checked in even during the middle of a heist, wouldn’t just leave without a word.

It wasn’t just his absence that hurt—it was the questions it left behind.

Had something gone wrong? Was he in danger? Did he leave to protect you? Or… had he chosen to leave you behind?

You couldn’t decide which thought was worse.

And so, you found yourself in limbo, walking through your days like a shadow of yourself. Every time you heard a car engine roar or the faint buzz of your phone, your heart jumped, hoping it was him. But it never was. It was like living in a constant state of waiting, with no end in sight.

Because no matter how dangerous or reckless Ni-ki was, he had never made you feel like this before—like you were completely and utterly alone.

You didn’t know what to do. Who could you even ask? Ni-ki didn’t exactly have a list of friends you could call up, and even if he did, would they tell you the truth? Would they even know?

You couldn’t go anywhere either, since over time, Ni-ki had subtly embedded himself into your life. His toothbrush sat next to yours in the bathroom, his favorite snacks were still in the kitchen cupboards, and his scent still lingered on the hoodie he’d left draped over the back of your couch. Everything around you was a reminder of him, of how present he used to be—and now, of how completely absent he was.

You felt helpless. All you could do was wait. Wait for a sign, for any kind of clue that Ni-ki was okay. That your boyfriend would return. That he hadn’t just dropped everything, ghosted you, and fled to another country or something, leaving you to pick up the pieces of a life you’d built together.

And it wasn’t just his disappearance in your life that hit—it was the absence of him everywhere else, too.

There were no robberies, no heists, no headlines about criminals pulling off impossible jobs. Nothing.

Ni-ki’s world, the one you’d been reluctantly dragged into, seemed to vanish along with him. It was like he’d flipped a switch and erased himself completely, leaving no trace that he or his crew had ever existed.

And that terrified you.

Because if there were no heists, no rumors, and no movement in the underground world he thrived in… then what had happened to him?

You tried to keep yourself busy to stop your mind from spiraling. You went to work, cleaned the apartment, and even started wearing some of the designer clothes he’d bought for you—just so you wouldn’t see them lying untouched and feel that pang of loss all over again. But no matter how much you distracted yourself, the questions never left.

Where was he? Why had he disappeared? And most importantly—was he even still alive?

Each night, you’d sit on the edge of the bed you used to share, staring at your phone, willing it to buzz with a message from him. Just one word, one sign that he was out there, that he hadn’t forgotten about you.

But it never came.

And the silence, day after day, was slowly eating away at you.

Where could he have possibly gone?

You wondered that every single day. The question circled endlessly in your mind, eating away at you, consuming you whole. It kept you awake at night, staring at the ceiling as you tried to piece together a puzzle you didn’t have all the pieces for.

Had something gone wrong? Maybe the cops had finally caught up to him. Or worse, maybe a rival crew had taken him out.

Or—your heart clenched painfully at the thought—what if he had left on purpose?

You hated yourself for even entertaining the idea, but you couldn’t help it. Had all the promises, the whispered words, the moments he’d held you close meant nothing? You couldn’t shake the memory of how he used to look at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in his world. It didn’t make sense for him to just walk away from that.

But then again, Ni-ki wasn’t exactly a predictable man.

You found yourself retracing your memories of him over and over, looking for signs you might have missed. Had he said something that hinted he might leave? Had there been a change in his behavior that you hadn’t noticed at the time?

But nothing came up.

You thought about the last night you’d spent together, how normal it had been. He’d kissed you goodnight, murmured something about taking care of “a few things,” and promised he’d see you the next day.

But that day never came.

And now you were left with a hollow ache in your chest and a million unanswered questions.

You tried searching for him. You went to places you knew he frequented, even places he’d warned you never to go. You lingered near shady alleys, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone who might recognize you, who might know where Ni-ki was.

But every lead you tried came up empty. And no matter how much you told yourself to stop, to move on, you couldn’t. Because deep down, no matter how angry or hurt you were, you still loved him. And the thought of never seeing him again? That was something you couldn’t accept.

So since you couldn’t accept it, you decided to live with it.

He would return—eventually. He had to.

You clung to that belief, repeating it to yourself like a mantra. Ni-ki always had a way of showing up when you least expected it. He wasn’t the kind of man who just disappeared forever, not without a reason.

But until then, you had to keep going. Life didn’t pause for your heartbreak, no matter how much it felt like it should.

You went back to work, dragging yourself through each day. You tried to focus on the mundane things. It was easier to keep your mind occupied than to let yourself fall into the black hole of wondering why.

The apartment felt emptier than ever, though. His things were still there, little reminders of him scattered everywhere. His clothes in the closet, his jacket still hung by the door, and the scent of his cologne lingered faintly on the sheets.

You told yourself not to touch any of it, like leaving it all the way it was would somehow bring him back faster.

But the days kept going, and the silence became unbearable.

At night, you found yourself sitting by the window, staring out at the city lights, hoping that maybe you’d see him walking up the street. Or hear the familiar sound of his key turning in the lock.

But it never happened.

Instead, the city moved on without him, and you were left standing still, caught in the limbo of waiting.

And then, just when you started to think you might have to let go of the hope that had been keeping you afloat, something changed.

You were just outside, taking the trash out. It was ordinary, mundane, and the last thing you expected was for your life to take a sharp, terrifying turn.

As you tied up the trash bag and made your way toward the dumpster, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could turn around, something cold and hard pressed against the back of your head—a gun.

"Don't scream," a low voice ordered, calm but menacing.

Your breath hitched, your heart racing as fear overtook your body. You barely had a chance to process the situation before rough hands grabbed you, shoving a bag over your head.

“Hey!” you yelled, but your voice was cut off as you were manhandled, your arms pinned to your sides. You thrashed as much as you could, but whoever had you was strong—too strong.

"Keep still," the voice snapped as you were dragged across the pavement.

The sound of a car door opening made your stomach drop.

You screamed again, the sound muffled by the bag over your head, but it didn’t matter. You were shoved into the car with enough force to knock the wind out of you.

The door slammed shut, and you felt the vehicle lurch forward as it sped off.

“Where are you taking me!?” you demanded.

No one answered.

You could hear a few voices around you, low murmurs you couldn’t make out, and the hum of the engine. Your mind raced. Who were these people? What did they want? And why did this feel so… targeted?

You thought of Ni-ki.

Was this connected to him? Had his criminal past caught up to him, and now you were caught in the crossfire?

The car continued to speed through the streets, the sound of the city growing distant. You struggled against your restraints, trying to think of a way out, but the hands that had grabbed you earlier kept you pinned down.

Eventually, the car slowed, and you felt it come to a stop.

The door opened, and you were pulled out, still blindfolded and disoriented.

“Walk,” the voice commanded, pushing you forward.

Your legs wobbled, but you forced yourself to move, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. You were led into a building—at least, you assumed so by the sound of a door creaking open and the change in the air.

“Sit,” the voice ordered, and you were shoved into a chair, the force making it scrape against the floor as you landed with a jolt.

Before you could even catch your breath, rough hands grabbed your arms and began tying them down to the chair.

“Wait, what are you doing? Let me go!” you shouted, panic flaring in your chest as you struggled against the bindings.

They ignored you, the rope burning against your wrists as they secured it tightly. You twisted and thrashed, managing to elbow one of them in the ribs. The man stumbled back with a grunt, and you seized the moment to push yourself off the chair.

The ropes weren’t fully secure yet, and with an adrenaline-fueled burst of strength, you ripped free and yanked the bag off your head.

The sight before you made your blood run cold.

They weren’t Ni-ki’s people.

No, these were strangers, all wearing clown masks—grotesque, painted grins leering at you as they stood in a loose circle, armed with weapons.

Your breathing hitched as you stumbled back, trying to put as much distance between yourself and them as possible.

One of them stepped forward, clearly the leader, his mask more elaborate than the others with smeared red paint around the mouth and black streaks over the eyes. He held a knife in one hand, the blade catching the dim light.

He tilted his head, gesturing for you to come closer.

You froze, your mind racing. Did he really think you would just… walk to him voluntarily?

Disgust churned in your stomach at the audacity, and your body stiffened as the reality of your situation fully sank in.

“No,” you said, your voice trembling but defiant.

The man tilted his head further, almost amused, and took another step forward. The other masked figures began to shift, closing in around you like vultures circling prey.

Your pulse roared in your ears, but you clenched your fists, refusing to show fear.

“I said no,” you repeated, louder this time, your voice steady even as your legs threatened to give out beneath you.

The leader stopped, his head tilting back slightly as if to examine you. Then, without warning, he lunged.

Instinct took over, and you dodged to the side just in time, the blade narrowly missing you. Your shoulder hit the wall hard, but you didn’t stop moving. You darted for the door, desperate to escape, but two of the masked figures stepped in front of it, blocking your path.

A sharp laugh came from the leader as he straightened, pointing the knife at you.

"Feisty," he said, his voice muffled slightly by the mask. He tilted his head, almost as if studying you. Then, with a low chuckle, he added, “Now I see why Wolf likes you.”

You froze, your blood running cold at the mention of Ni-ki’s alias. Not many people knew of his real name—unless they were part of his trusted circle.

The leader noticed your reaction and laughed again, clearly pleased by your response. “Oh, that got your attention, didn’t it?” he mocked, twirling the knife between his fingers. “Yeah, I know all about your little boyfriend. Wolf this, Wolf that. Always so damn secretive, isn’t he?”

“What do you want?” you snapped, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart was pounding in your chest.

He ignored your question, taking another step closer. “You wanna know where your precious Wolf went?” he asked, his tone teasing, dripping with condescension.

Your brows furrowed despite yourself, and you hated how you hesitated. Did he know? Did they have something to do with Ni-ki disappearing?

He noticed the flicker of curiosity in your eyes and smirked beneath the mask. “Ah, there it is,” he said. “You do want to know. But then again… should you? I mean, if he really cared about you, don’t you think he would’ve told you himself? Instead of just up and vanishing like that?”

“That’s not—” you began to argue, but he cut you off.

“No, no,” he said, wagging the knife at you like you were some misbehaving child. “Let’s be real here. Do you honestly think he told you everything? Do you really think you’re anything more than a little toy to him? Something pretty to keep around, just for fun?”

“That’s not true,” you said through gritted teeth, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to stay calm.

“Isn’t it?” he pressed, his tone taunting. “Think about it. You’re sitting here, clueless, while we know where he is. Why didn’t he trust you enough to tell you, huh? Maybe you’re not as important to him as you think.”

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. You knew Ni-ki cared for you—you felt it in the way he looked at you, touched you, protected you. But the nagging doubt his words planted began to twist in your mind.

“Shut up,” you muttered, your voice trembling with barely contained anger.

“Oh, hit a nerve, did I?” the man said, his laughter echoing around the room. “Poor little thing, left in the dark by the guy who’s supposed to love you. Face it—he’s been playing you from the start.”

“I said shut up!” you shouted, your voice cracking as frustration and fear boiled over.

The man took another step toward you. “Aw, don’t get mad at me. I’m just telling you the truth. If Wolf really loved you, he wouldn’t have left you like this. He’s probably already moved on, you know. That’s what guys like him do—they don’t stick around. You’re just—”

Before he could finish, the sound of a loud crash came from outside the room, followed by shouts. The leader’s head snapped toward the door, his body tensing.

You felt a flicker of hope spark in your chest, though you had no idea what was happening.

The man turned back to you, narrowing his eyes behind the mask. “Stay put,” he ordered, pointing the knife at you, then pointed sharply at two of his men. “You two, stay here. Don’t let her move,” he barked, his voice sharp. Then, without another glance at you, he disappeared through the door, followed by the rest of the masked figures.

The room fell silent, save for the faint, muffled sound of shouting and movement outside. You froze, your breath shallow, as tension wrapped around you.

The two men left behind didn’t seem particularly thrilled about their assignment. One leaned against the wall, lazily spinning a pistol in his hand, while the other paced back and forth, gripping a shotgun tightly.

“What the hell’s going on out there?” the pacing man muttered under his breath, his steps growing quicker as his nerves got the better of him.

“Probably just a distraction,” the other said casually, though his tone didn’t match the unease in his body language. “Nothing to worry about.”

But then the sound of gunfire ripped through the air, loud and unmistakable. Both men snapped to attention, their heads whipping toward the door.

The pacing man cursed under his breath, his hands tightening around the shotgun. “That didn’t sound like nothing,” he hissed.

The other man straightened, his casual demeanor evaporating in an instant. “Stay sharp,” he muttered, raising his pistol and taking a defensive stance.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched them, trying to make sense of what was happening. Was it the police? Another rival group? Or—could it possibly be Ni-ki?

The thought made your stomach twist. You didn’t dare hope, but the timing was too coincidental to ignore.

Another round of gunfire erupted, this time closer. The shouts outside grew louder, more frantic, and you saw the pacing man glance at the door nervously.

“What if—” he started, but before he could finish, the door burst open with a deafening crash.

A masked figure stormed in, moving too quickly for you to process, and before the two men could react, shots rang out. The man with the shotgun dropped first, crumpling to the ground, followed by the other, who barely managed to fire a shot before falling.

You screamed, your body instinctively curling in on itself at the scene that unfolded in front of you.

The masked figure turned to you, their weapon still raised. But then, as if realizing who you were, they slowly, they lowered the gun and reached up to pull off their mask.

Your breath caught in your throat as familiar dark eyes met yours.

Ni-ki.

He was breathing hard, his face splattered with blood—none of it his, from what you could tell. His expression was sharp, focused, but the second he saw you, it softened.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and steady.

You could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak.

Ni-ki moved toward you quickly and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him.

“We need to go,” he said, his grip firm but gentle as he led you toward the door and out.

“What—how did you—” you stammered, your mind racing with questions, but Ni-ki cut you off.

“Not now,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll explain everything later. Right now, we need to get out of here.”

You barely had time to nod before Ni-ki’s hand tightened around yours, his grip both protective and urgent. He moved with precision, his steps calculated, as though he had memorized every corner.

The hallway was dimly lit and reeked of sweat and blood. Bodies lay scattered along the floor, some moving in pain, others motionless. You stumbled over one of them, but Ni-ki was quick to steady you, pulling you closer to him as though shielding you from the reality of what you were walking through.

“Stay close to me,” he muttered, his voice low but firm.

The sound of gunfire echoed down the hall, making you flinch. Ni-ki cursed under his breath and pulled you into a side room, pressing you against the wall as he peeked out into the corridor.

You could hear muffled voices shouting orders in the distance, along with the unmistakable clang of boots against the floor.

“They’re regrouping,” Ni-ki muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Who are they?” you whispered, your voice shaking as you gestured vaguely toward the chaos outside. “And why—why did they take me?”

Ni-ki glanced back at you, his dark eyes intense. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to tell you everything, but instead, he shook his head.

“Later,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Right now, we just need to get out of here alive.”

He leaned back out into the hallway, checking the coast again before grabbing your hand and pulling you back into motion.

The two of you moved quickly, Ni-ki guiding you through a maze of hallways and rooms. You didn’t know where you were going, but you trusted him. You had to.

Eventually, you came to a set of metal doors. Ni-ki pushed one open slightly, peeking out before motioning for you to follow.

The outside air hit you like a shock, cold and biting against your skin. You were in an alleyway, the narrow space lit only by a flickering streetlamp. A black car idled a few feet away, its engine running.

“Get in,” Ni-ki ordered, opening the passenger door for you.

You hesitated for a moment, your legs frozen as your mind tried to catch up with everything that had happened.

“Now,” Ni-ki snapped, his voice sharp but not unkind.

The urgency in his tone jolted you into action. You climbed into the car, and Ni-ki quickly shut the door before jogging around to the driver’s side. He slid in, slamming the door behind him, and immediately hit the gas.

The tires screeched as the car sped out of the alley, merging into the flow of late-night traffic.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You stared out the window, your heart still racing, as the city lights blurred past.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Ni-ki… what’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were focused on the road ahead.

“Those men,” he finally said, his voice low and controlled, “were enemies. Rivals. They’ve been trying to get to me for months, and when they couldn’t, they went after you instead.”

You felt a chill run down your spine. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you warn me this could happen?”

Ni-ki’s grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. “I thought I had it under control. I didn’t want to drag you into this mess.”

“But they did drag me into it,” you said, your voice rising slightly. “And you disappeared, Ni-ki! I thought—” Your voice cracked, and you stopped, swallowing hard.

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now. He glanced at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “I had to disappear. They were closing in, and I needed to make sure they couldn’t find you. But I didn’t think they’d figure out where you were so fast.”

You stared at him, your emotions a whirlwind of anger, fear, and relief. “So what now? Are they going to keep coming after us?”

Ni-ki was silent for a moment before answering. “Not if I finish this.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. You didn’t know exactly what “finishing this” entailed, but you knew it wasn’t going to be anything simple—or safe.

For now, though, you were too exhausted to push for answers. You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes as you tried to process everything.

You were angry. Angry and hurt. But mostly angry.

The more you tried to push it down, the harder it fought to rise. You didn’t want to admit it, but that guys’ words had gotten to you. They’d planted a seed of doubt that wouldn’t stop growing, no matter how much you wanted to tear it out.

Because the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Ni-ki had always been secretive, careful with his words, deflecting questions he didn’t want to answer. He’d always told you it was to keep you safe, to protect you from the world he was a part of—but was that all it was?

You hated the doubt clawing at you. It felt like a betrayal to even consider it, but how could you not? He hadn’t told you where he was going or what he was doing. He’d disappeared for a month without a word, leaving you to question everything. And now, after swooping in to save you, he dropped you off at this fancy, unfamiliar hotel like you were some burden and vanished again.

It had been three hours since he left. Three hours of silence, alone in this room, alone with your spiraling thoughts.

You paced the room, the plush carpet soft under your feet as you walked back and forth. The anger bubbled under the surface, growing hotter and heavier with each passing second. You felt like you were going to explode.

How could he do this to you? How could he keep so much from you—things that mattered, things that directly involved you?

You looked around the room, the expensive décor and luxurious furniture mocking you. The place was beautiful, no doubt, but it felt cold and empty. It wasn’t home. It wasn’t comforting. It was just another thing Ni-ki had decided for you without asking.

You tried calling him again, for what felt like the hundredth time, but it went straight to voicemail. No message. No update. Nothing.

The anger surged again, and you threw your phone onto the bed with a frustrated groan. You felt like you were going in circles, your mind chasing answers that weren’t there.

All you wanted was the truth. Was that so much to ask?

You sat down on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands. The doubt crept back in, the voices whispering in your head.

He doesn’t trust you. You’re just someone to keep him entertained. If he really cared, he wouldn’t leave you like this.

You hated that those thoughts felt so convincing.

Because deep down, you knew they weren’t entirely wrong. Ni-ki never told you the full truth about his life, and no matter how much you loved him, no matter how much he said he loved you, there was always a wall between you.

A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You didn’t want to cry. You wanted to be mad. Mad was better than hurt. Mad was easier to deal with.

The sound of your phone buzzing snapped you out of your thoughts. You grabbed it quickly, hoping it was him, but it wasn’t. Just another notification you didn’t care about.

You sighed and leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

You didn’t know how long you’d be stuck here, waiting for him, waiting for answers. All you knew was that this wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

If Ni-ki wanted you to trust him, he had to start trusting you too. Because if he didn’t… you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep doing this.

When he eventually did return, it was late at night. You had already gone to bed, the room dark and quiet, when the sound of the door unlocking and opening made you sit up abruptly. You fumbled for the light switch, turning on the bedside lamp, and your eyes widened as you saw Ni-ki standing there.

His clothes were smeared with blood, dark streaks painting his shirt and jacket. His face looked tired, a faint cut across his cheekbone, and his knuckles were raw and bruised.

He looked surprised to see you awake, his usual calm demeanor faltering for just a moment. “You’re awake,” he said, his voice soft but laced with exhaustion. He stepped further into the room, quickly scanning you from head to toe. “Are you okay? Did anything happen?”

You pushed his hands away when he reached for you. “Don’t,” you said sharply, your voice trembling with anger and worry.

His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” you repeated, your voice rising as you threw the blankets off and stood from the bed. “Ni-ki, look at you! You’re covered in blood! You’ve been gone for hours, and you come back like this and expect me to just—what? Pretend everything’s fine?”

“It’s not my blood,” he said simply, as if that was supposed to make you feel better.

You froze, staring at him in disbelief. His words rendered you speechless for a moment, the weight of them sinking in.

“Not your blood?” you finally managed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. “That’s not the point, Ni-ki! You disappear without a word, leave me alone in some random hotel, and then show up like this? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

“It was business,” he said flatly, his tone calm but guarded.

That made your anger boil over. “It’s always business with you!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Every time! It’s like you think I don’t deserve to know what’s going on. You vanish, come back covered in blood, and all you can say is business?”

Ni-ki ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly as his bruised knuckles brushed against his scalp. “You don’t understand,” he said quietly.

“Then make me understand!” you snapped, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “I’m tired of this, Ni-ki. Tired of wondering if you’re okay, tired of sitting here not knowing if you’re going to come back. It’s like you don’t trust me, like you don’t think I’m worth the truth!”

He stared at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it looked like he was going to say something, but then he just shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not that simple,” you repeated bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Of course, it’s not. Nothing with you ever is.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension between you palpable. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of whatever he’d been carrying. But that didn’t erase the fact that you were tired too—tired of being left in the dark, tired of feeling like you were fighting for a place in his life.

“I’m going to clean up,” he finally said, his voice low. He turned toward the bathroom, pausing in the doorway to glance back at you. “We’ll talk after.”

But you didn’t respond. You just turned away, sitting back on the bed with your back to him.

You heard the sound of running water a moment later, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. You wanted to believe him, to believe that he cared as much as he said he did, but how could you when he brushed you off like that?

When Ni-ki returned, his steps were lighter, freshly showered, dressed in clean clothes, and with damp hair dripping slightly onto the collar of his shirt. He looked at you, expecting to find you asleep, but instead, you sat upright in bed, the glow of your phone casting shadows over your face.

“You’re still awake?” he asked, his voice low with a mix of surprise and guilt.

You didn’t look up from your phone, your fingers idly scrolling. “Couldn’t sleep.”

His brows furrowed, but he said nothing more as he climbed into bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and after a moment, he scooted closer, slipping an arm around your waist in an attempt to pull you against him.

You immediately shuffled away, putting space between the two of you.

He froze, his arm hovering in the empty space where you’d just been. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but edged with worry.

You finally set your phone down and turned to face him, your expression heavy with emotion. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Ni-ki.”

His eyes widened slightly, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. “What do you mean?”

You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of your thoughts crashing down all at once. “You’ve been gone for a month, Ni-ki. A whole month. No calls, no messages, nothing. I didn’t know if you were alive, if you were ever coming back. And then, out of nowhere, you swoop in when I’m in trouble like it’s just another day, like none of it matters.”

“It does matter,” he said quickly, his voice firm as he sat up straighter.

“Does it?” you shot back, your tone sharp. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. You disappear without a word, you keep me in the dark about everything important, and then you show up expecting me to just go along with it, like none of this is supposed to bother me. Do you even…” You paused, your voice breaking slightly as the words caught in your throat. “Do you even love me?”

He stared at you, his lips parting slightly, but no words came out at first. Instead, he reached for you, pulling you into his arms despite your protests and attempts to squirm away.

“Let me go,” you muttered, your voice muffled against his chest.

“No,” he said softly, his arms tightening around you as he rested his chin on top of your head. “I’m not letting you go.”

“Ni-ki—”

“Listen to me,” he interrupted gently, his voice low but steady. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. You’re the only thing in my life that feels real, the only thing I come back to when everything else is chaos. You’re the reason I keep going.”

You shook your head, your hands weakly pressing against his chest as you tried to push him away. “You can’t just say that—”

“I love the way you fight me on everything,” he continued, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “I love the way you look at me like you can see right through me, like you see the parts of me no one else does. I love the way you don’t care about the money, or the things I do—you just care about me.”

“Stop,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

“I love you,” he said again, his voice breaking slightly as he buried his face in your hair. “And I’m sorry for everything. For leaving you alone, for making you feel like you don’t matter. You do, okay? You matter more than anything.”

Despite yourself, despite the anger and hurt you still felt, his words broke through the walls you’d tried so hard to put up. The weight of your emotions came crashing down, and you finally gave in, collapsing against him as the tears spilled over.

Your hands gripped his shirt tightly, your body shaking with quiet sobs as he held you close, his arms strong and steady around you. “I hate you,” you mumbled weakly, though there was no real malice behind the words.

He chuckled softly, kissing the top of your head. “I know. I know, I would hate me too.”

You didn’t respond, too exhausted and overwhelmed to say anything more. And as he continued to hold you, whispering quiet reassurances and pressing soft kisses to your hair, you realized something.

You had missed him so much.

You woke up the next morning to the weight of Ni-ki draped over you, clinging to you like a koala. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, and his head was squished against your chest, his messy hair tickling your chin. You blinked groggily, taking in the sight of him, so peaceful in his sleep.

For a moment, you just stared, letting yourself savor the quiet moment. There was something in the way he held you, like you were the one thing in his life he couldn’t let go of.

Unable to resist, you slowly brought your hand up to his hair, carding your fingers through the soft strands. He responded immediately, leaning into your touch and groaning sleepily, his grip on you tightening as if to say, don’t stop.

You smiled faintly, your fingers continuing to glide through his hair. It was moments like these that made it so hard to stay mad at him, to even consider walking away. But the thoughts you’d had the night before still lingered in the back of your mind, refusing to let you rest.

After a while, you decided you needed to get up. Slowly and carefully, you began the long and arduous task of peeling Ni-ki off you. It was no easy feat—he grumbled in protest, his arms tightening around you whenever you tried to wiggle free. He buried his face further into your chest, muttering something incoherent, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes affectionately.

“Ni-ki,” you whispered softly, brushing his hair back. “Let go.”

He groaned but didn’t budge, his grip still firm. It took several more minutes of gently prying his arms away and untangling yourself from his hold, but eventually, you managed to slip out from under him.

As you stood, you glanced back at him. He had turned onto his side, still deep in sleep, his hair a mess and his lips slightly parted. He looked so carefree, so unlike the Ni-ki you usually saw—guarded, calculating, always one step ahead.

You sighed quietly and turned away, grabbing your clothes and getting dressed before quietly slipping out of the room. You needed some time to think, to process everything.

Your feelings for Ni-ki weren’t the issue. You loved him—of that, you were certain. But loving him wasn’t the same as being able to handle the life that came with him. The secrecy, the danger, the constant wondering if he was okay or if you’d ever see him again. It was exhausting, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

And so, you left the room, leaving Ni-ki behind in his slumber. You needed to figure out what you really wanted, what this relationship meant for you both.

The irony of it all wasn’t lost on you. Ni-ki had spent so long running, leaving you behind to think and worry in his absence. Now, it was your turn to take the space you needed—even if only for a little while.

And so, you took the space you needed. After everything, it was your turn to vanish—not completely, of course. You still had responsibilities to attend to, places to be, and tasks to complete. But for Ni-ki, you became a ghost.

You didn’t answer his calls. Each time your phone buzzed with his name on the screen, you ignored it, staring at the device until it fell silent. The texts he sent—long, short, questioning, apologetic—went unanswered. Even when he rang your doorbell, you couldn’t bring yourself to open it. You’d sit silently inside, barely breathing, until you heard the sound of him leaving.

At work, you made sure to disappear when he showed up, ducking into the breakroom or slipping out the back. At school, you avoided the places you thought he might look for you. When you did catch glimpses of him—standing at a distance, scanning the crowd, his expression filled with frustration and concern—you’d slip away before he could see you.

You told yourself it wasn’t forever. That this was what you needed, a chance to clear your head and sort through the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But each time you saw his name pop up on your phone or caught sight of him searching for you, a pang of guilt struck you deep.

Still, you couldn’t bear to face him right now. You couldn’t look into those eyes, so full of emotion, and risk falling apart all over again. You needed this time. Time to figure out if you could handle everything that came with loving someone like Ni-ki.

And so, you stayed hidden, even as part of you ached to open the door, to pick up the phone, to let him explain everything. Because, despite the distance you’d created, you couldn’t stop missing him.

Ni-ki wasn’t the kind of person to give up easily, though. And you knew, deep down, that this wouldn’t be the end. Not for him, not for you.

But what could you really do when someone like Ni-ki was your boyfriend? It was only a matter of time before he got to you again.

It happened when you least expected it—again. You were outside, tossing a bag of trash into the dumpster, then, like a shadow slipping out of nowhere, Ni-ki appeared behind you.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked.

You froze, your hand still gripping the edge of the dumpster. Slowly, you turned to face him. He looked the same as always, but his eyes were different. They weren’t filled with their usual confidence or amusement. Instead, they looked tired. Frustrated.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you muttered, though the words felt weak even to your own ears.

Ni-ki scoffed softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Sure, you weren’t.”

You glanced around, as if looking for an escape route, but you knew there wasn’t one. Not from him. "What do you want, Ni-ki?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

He took a step closer, and you instinctively took one back. "I want you to stop avoiding me," he said. His tone wasn’t angry, but there was an edge to it, a quiet insistence. "You’ve been ignoring me for days. Do you think I wouldn’t notice?"

"Maybe I wanted you to notice," you shot back, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Ni-ki tilted his head, studying you with those dark, piercing eyes. "So, what? You wanted me to chase you?"

"I wanted space!" you snapped, your voice louder now. "I needed time to think, Ni-ki. About us. About this." You gestured vaguely between the two of you, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "You can’t just keep vanishing and showing up whenever you feel like it. That’s not fair to me."

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. The silence hung heavy between you, broken only by the distant sound of a car passing by. Then he stepped closer again, and this time, you didn’t move away.

“I know,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “I messed up. I should’ve told you what was going on. I just... I didn’t know how.”

“You didn’t know how?” you repeated, your anger still simmering but mingled now with disbelief. “You didn’t know how to tell your girlfriend where you were going or why you disappeared for a month?”

“I thought I was protecting you,” he admitted, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I thought... if I kept you out of it, you’d be safe.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Safe? Do you know how scared I was when you disappeared? How much worse it made everything when those guys showed up and—” Your voice cracked, and you quickly stopped, swallowing hard.

Ni-ki’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “I know. And I hate that you had to go through that. But I came back, didn’t I?”

"That’s not the point, Ni-ki," you said, your voice quieter now. “It’s not just about coming back. It’s about not leaving me in the dark in the first place.”

He took another step forward, close enough now that you could feel the warmth of him in the cold night air. “I’m trying,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t... I don’t know how to do this. The whole relationship thing. But I’m trying.”

You stared at him, your anger still lingering but softening slightly at the vulnerability in his voice.

“You’re not making it easy,” you muttered.

He smirked faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “When have I ever made anything easy?”

Despite yourself, you almost smiled at that. But you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “This is serious, Ni-ki,” you said, your tone firm. “If you want this to work, you have to stop shutting me out. I can’t do this if you’re just going to disappear every time things get messy.”

He nodded slowly, his expression more serious now. “I know. And I promise, I’ll do better. Just... don’t give up on me. On us.”

You hesitated, studying him closely. He looked sincere, but you couldn’t help wondering if that would be enough. Still, as much as you wanted to stay mad, a part of you wanted to believe him. To give him another chance.

“I’m not promising anything,” you said finally, your voice softer now. “But... I’ll think about it.”

Ni-ki smiled faintly, and for the first time, it felt genuine. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

You took the time you needed, allowing the days to pass slowly as you sorted through your thoughts. It wasn’t easy, and there were moments when you doubted whether anything would change.

After a week of space, you decided it was time. You texted Ni-ki, asking him to come over to talk. You weren’t sure what the conversation would look like, but you knew you couldn’t keep pushing him away, and you couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

When the doorbell rang later that evening, your heart was pounding in your chest. You hadn’t seen him in days, and the anticipation was nerve-wracking. You took a deep breath before walking over and opening the door.

There he was, standing on your doorstep with that familiar hoodie, his hands shoved into his pockets, and his expression unreadable. But there was something different in the way he stood—more uncertain, almost... nervous.

You studied him for a moment, unsure of where to begin. But then, his eyes met yours, and he spoke first.

“You wanted to talk?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. “Yeah. We need to.”

The air between you felt thick with everything that had been left unsaid, but neither of you moved until you both sat down in the living room. Ni-ki took a seat across from you, his hands resting on his knees, his gaze focused on the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

“I know I messed up,” he began, his voice low. “I hurt you. I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me, and I... I’m sorry for that. I never meant to make you feel abandoned or like you didn’t matter.”

You looked at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice, but the sting of his absence still lingered. “I just don’t understand why you thought it was okay to just disappear. To leave me without any explanation. I’ve been asking myself that over and over,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I know you think you were protecting me, but... it felt like you were shutting me out. Like I wasn’t even part of your world.”

Ni-ki ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the way he sighed. “I get that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should’ve communicated with you, let you know what was going on. But I didn’t. I kept everything to myself because I thought I was doing the right thing... keeping you safe.”

You shook your head. “But that’s not how a relationship works, Ni-ki. You don’t just keep secrets. You don’t disappear without saying anything. And you can’t keep making decisions without me.”

“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I messed up, and I’m not proud of it. But I’m here now. I’m here because I want to fix this. I want to make things right with you. I know I’ve hurt you, and I can’t take that back, but I’ll do anything to prove that I care. That I’m not just using you.”

His words hit you hard, and for a moment, you looked down at your hands, unsure of what to say. You didn’t want to keep holding on to the anger and the hurt, but it was hard to shake off the feeling of betrayal.

“I don’t know, Ni-ki,” you said quietly. “I’m not sure if I can just forget what happened. It’s not just about you disappearing—it’s everything that came with it. The way you treated me like I was some kind of afterthought.”

Ni-ki moved closer to you, his hand gently reaching out for yours. “I understand. And I don’t expect you to forget. But I need you to know that I want to be here. I want to make things right. I love you. And I’ll prove it every day.”

You hesitated, still holding on to the doubts and the pain. But his hand in yours felt like a lifeline, and for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe things could be different. Maybe he could change.

“I don’t know if it will be easy,” you said softly, “but I’ll try. I’ll try if you promise me that you’ll be honest with me. That you won’t keep things from me anymore.”

Ni-ki nodded, his grip tightening on your hand. “I promise. No more secrets.”

It felt surreal, the way things shifted after Ni-ki made that promise. He wasn’t just physically present—he was emotionally there too, in ways you hadn’t expected. The first thing you’d see when you woke up was him, his face relaxed in sleep, a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips as if he were content just being there with you. And the last thing you saw before sleep was him, his warm arms around you, ensuring that you were safe and cared for.

You noticed how he didn’t leave your side much. Whether it was at home, walking you to work, or even just sitting on the couch together, he made sure to be near you, always close enough to reassure you that he was there for good. There were no more of those long, unexplained absences. No more shadows lurking over the relationship. He was there. He was committed.

One evening, as you were sitting together on the couch, your curiosity got the better of you. It had been weeks since you’d noticed any signs of the heists he’d been involved in—no more late-night disappearances, no more mysterious meetings. You decided to ask him outright.

“Ni-ki... I’ve been meaning to ask,” you said, your voice tentative, “What happened to all those heists? All that... the stuff you used to do?”

He tensed slightly, his eyes flicking to yours before he took a slow breath. “I quit,” he said simply, the words carrying weight that took you by surprise.

“Wait, what?” You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “You quit? Like, for real?”

Ni-ki nodded, a serious look in his eyes. “Yeah. I realized it wasn’t the life I wanted anymore. I don’t want to be that person who hides behind masks and lies. I don’t want to drag you into that world. I’ve done enough to screw things up already.”

You felt a rush of emotions—surprise, confusion, and a strange sense of relief. He had quit? For you?

“You... you quit for me?” You whispered, almost unable to believe it.

He nodded again, reaching out to take your hand in his. “For both of us. I’m serious about us, about you. I don’t want to lose you. So I’m going to get a real job, a legitimate one. I want a future with you, and that’s not going to happen if I’m still out there, risking everything.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and as you looked into his eyes, you saw the truth in every word. Ni-ki had always been unpredictable, but in this moment, he seemed more grounded, more determined than you had ever seen him.

You took a deep breath, the weight of it all sinking in. “I... I don’t know what to say,” you admitted softly.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Ni-ki said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I just wanted you to know. I want to build something real with you. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

Ni-ki had been reckless and wild in the past, but now, here he was—showing up for you in ways that were more meaningful than any flashy gesture or promise could convey.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Okay. I believe you.”

And that was all you needed to hear from him.

You leaned into him, letting yourself relax into the warmth of his embrace, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders.

You were both living in the moment, together.

a/n: this is the last chapter of this fic :) hope you all enjoyed it and stayed for the journey <3

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i9messi · 22 hours ago

Text

A girl with a dream — Lando Norris

You knew what you wanted, and girl, you got him. Or, in which you are a McLaren fan who goes for the first time to the paddock and tries to catch Lando's attention. Luckily, you do.

note: reader uses inappropriate language in some cases, minors don't interact please. oh and my requests are open, in case you want to request/suggest something about any driver.

smau

MASTERLIST

yourusername

lando norris i'm gonna marry you someday

liked by yourbff and 132 others

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yourbff oh stop, i'm losing my best friend for some random man

yourusername he's not a random man, he's my next boyfriend

yourbff how is going to fall in love with you if he doesn't even know you?

yourusername it's calling manifesting, and i've been manifesting my whole life

user1 we share the same boyfriend girl

yourusername hiiiiiii, can i have him tomorrow? you can have him on monday

user1 yeah, that's totally fine for me

user2 oh another kid who dreams to be dating a famous person, grow up

yourusername wow your life must be miserable

yourusername just posted two stories

caption: today is the dayyyyyyyyy!

yourusername

I MET LANDO, I'M GONNA CUM

tagged landonorris

liked by yourbff and 2.334 others

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user1 ok horny girl

user2 she's so me

user3 I. NEED. TO. MEET. HIM

user4 i don't even know who you are but i see a pic of lando and i feel forced to give it a like

yourbff HOW???? GIRL SPILL THE TEA

yourusername i tried to seduce a security member and he let me pass, or maybe he just felt sorry for me and thought i would not cause a problem

yourbff yessss, that's my girl. and what about lando?

yourusername i almost fainted when i saw him in front of me, but also i might have given him my insta

yourbff bitch what the fuck

landonorris oh, did you cum?

yourusername OH MY, LANDO FUCK I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

yourusername LANDO COMMENTED, HE NOTICED ME

landonorris hi 😜

landonorris

date night 😜

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 766.686 others

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user1 LANDO IS SEEING SOMEONE?

user2 WHO IS THAT GIRL

user3 maybe is a friend, i don't think it was a romantic date

user4 i don't know what to think

carlossainz55 so you have a girlfriend now?

landonorris shut up

yourusername yes, i'm his girlfriend

user5 we all know you're not his girfriend, you're a fan just like us

yourusername a girl can dream

yourusername how was the date?

landonorris it was good

yourusername just good?

landonorris probably the best date I ever had, it was interesting

yourusername 🤭

user5 why he answered to her? do they know each other?

user6 there's something on

user7 too suspicious

yourusername

date with some dude

liked by yourbff, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 154.865 others

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yourbff "some dude" yeah, we all know you were fangirling over him all the time

yourusername i can be a very calm girl when i want to

yourbff sure...

landonorris she wasn't calm, she almost cried like twice

yourusername cute baby don't embarrass me in front of my friends

landonorris sorry

user1 WHO IS SHE

user2 she's the same who commented on lando's post

user3 they went on a date together???????

user4 look at the pictures, they posted practically the same

oscarpiastri hi, so you're the girl who lando talked about

yourusername LANDO TALKED ABOUT ME?????? OMG GIRL

oscarpiastri i'm not a girl

yourusername i know, sorry

oscarpiastri you're weird

yourusername lando said the same. i think i like him tho

yourbff girl everyone can see your comments

yourusername well this is my account, go away

user5 i like her

user6 if she has a chance with lando, i have a chance with charles. that's common sense

user7 and i have a chance with carlos

landonorris how was the date?

yourusername it was good

landonorris just good? I thought you liked the boy

yourusername he didn't let me win on the karting

landonorris that was cheating and I don't cheat

yourusername next time i'll win

landonorris okay, are you free tomorrow? 😛

user8 oh we lost him

user9 girls our man is taken by one of us

landonorris just posted a story

yourusername

livin' la vida loca 🏆 (by the way, if i quit my job i'm gonna apply to be a driver in F1. i'm excellent at this)

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, yourbff and 234.559 others

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user1 boyfriend lando content, thank you bestie

user2 IT'S OFFICIAL?

user3 in another life i want to be y/n

user4 can you fight?

yourusername YES!!!!!! DON'T STEAL MY MAN, NOT WHEN I WORKED SO HARD TO GET HIM

user3 okay sorry ma'am

user5 you guys are so cute together

oscarpiastri double date when?

landonorris I see your face everyday, let me have dates with my girlfriend alone

user6 THEY'RE OFFICIAL

user7 he called her GIRLFRIEND

yourbff can you get me a boyfriend too? i don't know what kind of magic you had made

yourusername sure, just let me do my investigation

landonorris so you want to steal my job?

yourusername i want to steal your heart

landonorris it's already yours

yourusername oh baby

mclaren 👋🧡

f1wags

Rumors fly and seems like there is a new wag in scene. Lando Norris's new girl was seen in Monaco. What do you think about her?

liked by landonorris, yourusername, carmenmmundt and 232.998 others

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yourusername OMG I ALWAYS DREAMED TO BE ON A POST OF THESE

landonorris all you wanted was fame? don't you want me? 🥲

yourusername i only want you lando and that's pretty obvious

user1 i feel sad because lando has a gf at it's not me but at the same time i'm happy for y/n

user2 she's so pretty

user3 she seems nice

yourbff that's my frienddddddd

yourbff if she kills someone i will stand her

yourusername omg i love you

carmenmmundt georgerussel63 come to see this

georgerussel63 oh charles_leclerc see this

charles_leclerc lando with a gf? carlossainz55

carlossainz55 do you have a girlfriend now???? we need to reunite so you tell us everything

landonorris oh c'mon

danielricciardo don't skip the reunion lando, carlos already called me

oscarpiastri am I invited?

danielricciardo yes of course

landonorris you're so annoying

danielricciardo we're not

user4 half of the paddock is here our girl must be screaming

landonorris she kinda bewitched me

yourusername i was a girl with a dream

landonorris and i was a boy with a question to ask her

yourusername

from drawing hearts beside his name to being a wag

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, yourbff and 125.979 others

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user1 SO THEY ARE NOW A THING?

user2 fav wag

user3 do i still have a chance with carlos?

yourusername send me a dm. i can arrange something, maybe a double date

user3 omg you're so kind thank youuuu

yourusername ily ❤️

yourbff DON'T FORGET ABOUT ME, i want a man too

yourusername i'll ask lando who is single and then i'll send you a text

user4 from being a fan to being his wag

user5 TELL US THE WHOLE STORY

landonorris

dating your biggest fan is the best ❤️

tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 1.983.490 others

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yourusername i love you baby

landonorris and I love you y/n norris

yourusername i think we should get married, you know

landonorris okay now you scare me

yourusername i'm kidding pls don't be scared of me

landonorris never 😍

oscarpiastri so you're dating the weird girl, i like her

yourusername hi oscar, you're my second favourite driver

oscarpiastri pls don't get obsessed with me

yourusername nope sorry, it was lando all along. i only have eyes for him

landonorris aw you're so cute yourusername

yourusername baby come to bed again i need you

landonorris coming

yourusername oh, so you're already coming? pls come in my mouth 👄

oscarpiastri BITCH WHAT THE FUCK STOP

user1 so tell us how it started, we already know y/n pov because her tweet

landonorris I saw a cute girl standing behind a lot of other people and she just pushed them and made his way to me. She gave me her insta, then I stalked her on social media and found out her goal was to make me her boyfriend and I accepted. Who was I to say no? I like girls who are a little bit crazy and she's hot

landonorris she is good at karting and she has a lot of merch with my face on it, it's my dream girl

user2 oh to be lando's gf

yourusername i'm living the dream. girls i can share

335 notes · View notes

anbaisai · 3 days ago

Note

So when mayu first saw Jamil overblort what was her reaction????? Was she just thinking that ‘oh my god bros even more majestic’ or ‘my god I’m gonna die by some good looking dude’ which i wouldn’t doubt that mayu thinks he’s good looking either way since she’s the biggest Jamil simp I ever saw

WELL I've briefly mentioned this in an older post, but Mayu and Jamil actually barely interact before the events of Book 4 - all she thought of him before then was "he's pretty but I don't think we'll ever talk," and then the whole winter break thing happens and he certainly... ends up leaving an impression.

While the circumstances surrounding his OB end up making her more intrigued by him and it starts her attempts at getting to know him better, his OB look itself is, well... let's just say there's a running joke between me and my friends that Mayu stocks up on makeup wipes in case he ever OBs again 😭 (I'm sorry that ink/tattoo goatee is just NOT it) HOWEVER I think she also had thoughts of his snake hair looking really cute and wondering what would happen if she tried to feed them. For science, y'know.

#asks #my art #twisted wonderland #twst #jamil viper #jamil viper x yuu #oc #twst oc #shiokawa mayu #jamimayu #one of these days i should doodle a proper timeline for their relationship...#also this is just a joke and entirely my personal opinion 😭 no hate to anyone who likes his ob design

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stormikitty · 19 hours ago

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The first time I heard Cancer was when my brother (the 1 who's a monster for unrelated reasons) played the Twenty One Pilots version and it was before I started listening to MCR. I thought it was a Twenty One Pilots song for a while at first. 1 of my other brothers actually thought the MCR 1 must be the cover when I found out it was an MCR song. I'm not claiming this is more or less or an equal amount embarrassing to thinking a minecraft parody was an original song. Which is worse is a matter of opinion that I don't care to make a judgment on. I am only saying this because it's what came to mind when I saw this post.

nothing more sobering than realizing you'd been assuming a cover of a song was the original...like oh phew if the wrong person found out about that i couldve been killed

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sonarspace · 2 days ago

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໒꒱ welcome to the jujutsu kaisen masterlist .ᐟ 18+ only. be sure to check out my rules before you request.

return back to ➜ main masterlist ⁞ pinned post

♯ MULTI - HEADCANONS

touch ; just a fluff headcanon

valentine's day ; how they'd celebrate v-day with you.

taking care of you ; how they'd take care of you after a rough day

wishes ; morning b-day sex.

casual intimacy ; physical touch as a love language.

snip, snip, snip ; giving a trim to your boyfriend turns into something more

sharing ; in which geto shares his girlfriend.

no nut november ? ; no nut november or nut november. who knows..

all they want for christmas is you! ; the holidays are all about giving—and these men don’t hold back.

touch me, take me, kiss me ; where celebrating new year’s with your best friends turns into something much more intimate—one kiss at midnight isn’t nearly enough.

♯ ONE SHOTS / FICS

؛ ଓ SUKUNA RYOMĒN

whipped loverboy ; somehow, you’re the one person sukuna’s whipped for. he’d never admit it, but you know he’s all yours.

love sick king ; down bad sukuna

new throne ; sukuna lets you try out a new throne

holly, jolly, sinful ; where the krampus you feared is far from the monster in the stories, and santa isn’t the saint you thought he was.

؛ ଓ SUGURU GETO

needy ; geto’s craving all your attention, and he’s not stopping until he gets it.

twin xl ; a night that changes everything.

the last night ; spending a final night together, you and geto make every second count.

more than friends ; a shared brownie brings out old feelings, and after years apart, you and geto finally cross that line.

feral ; geto's not sure how you’ll react to his new haircut.

؛ ʚ FEM!GETO

bubbles ; in a steamy bubble bath, things heat up fast.

appointment ; in a waxer’s chair, you’re completely at her mercy, and she’s got you blushing from more than just the heat.

؛ ʚ BOXER!GETO

knockout kiss ; he’s got more than just a championship title on his mind.

batter & bruises ; the morning after.

؛ ଓ SATORU GOJO

teasin’ ; he can’t resist pushing your buttons, keeping you at the edge with every touch and word. he knows just how to play with you... until you beg for more.

when im down on my knees, you're how I pray ; your boyfriend gives you a good reason to stay home from work.

sweet syrup ; emotions are all over the place when fwb!gojo stands you up… for another girl?

study break ; being in the same class as him was bad enough; having him as the professor’s insufferably smug assistant made it worse.

blowout all the candles ; you made satoru gojo feel something he rarely ever did—normal, and undeniably special.

؛ ଓ KENTO NANAMI

deception ; bad dreams are just dreams after all.

rain, regrets, & redemption ; a rainy night brings nanami back, along with memories, missed chances, and a spark that refuses to fade.

؛ ଓ CHOSO KAMO

love cramp ; choso's addicted to you.

؛ ଓ TOJI FUSHIGURO

breaking point ; toji’s job was simple: watch, report, and move on but when the lines between his mission and his desires blur, he’s forced to confront a breaking point he never saw coming.

i’ma care for you, you, you ; what starts as a quiet attempt to keep toji sober on new year’s eve turns into something far more intimate—because for the first time in years, he’s found something worth staying sober for.

♯ DRABBLES / ASKS

؛ ଓ SUKUNA RYOMĒN

fluffy brain rot

smutty brain rot

nicknames

؛ ଓ SUGURU GETO

missed you

sleepy

sweet like sugar

birthday celebration

recharge

؛ ଓ SATORU GOJO

blindfold

forever more

warmth

؛ ଓ KENTO NANAMI

waves of love

safeguard

coworker!nanami

؛ ଓ CHOSO KAMO

choso with glasses

؛ ଓ TOJI FUSHIGURO

empty ... send requests :D

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azzifuddfanpage · 3 days ago

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testing the waters

OKAY NEW PAZZ FIC THANKS TOO 😛 ANON

There would not have been a fic if it weren’t for their amazing prompt so bless 😍

^if u wanna read their prompt look at my last post

themes: friends to lovers/ fluff

tw: SMUT

Azzi walked through the doors of Gampel Pavilion. She had just gotten to campus not even an hour before and was already having her first meeting with the team.

Azzi stood by the back with the other freshman. Still getting adjusted to the thrill of the change in atmosphere.

Standing on the court was unreal. Azzi turned her head admiring the bleachers and banners that lined the walls. She took in all the greats that came before her, all names she knew and studied growing up. She couldn’t believe that she was finally here, hopefully going to follow in their footsteps.

Azzi listened carefully as Geno’s voice carried through the walls.

“This team that is here right now is one that will never be the same again. This year, with this team, this is temporary. Next year there will be new people, seniors will be gone, and the team will be a whole new team again.” He paused scanning the room eyeing the freshman.

“You will value every moment you have with this team, build your chemistry now or it will be too late.” He continued pacing along in front of the group.

Azzi felt someone’s hand brush against her wrist and a warm gentle breath draw close to her ear.

“Don’t worry he is all talk. He’s not this scary all the time- well actually maybe just try to stay on his good side.” Azzi knew this voice.

She turned her head slightly coming face to face with Paige Bueckers. She actually hadn’t prepared herself for how close they would really be, accidentally turning and even feeling Paige’s breath on her lips. Azzi’s face flushed and she tried to play it off backing up and giggling.

—-

Her and Paige went way back. Paige was even one of the reasons she went to UConn in the first place.

They had been best friends since 2016 when they met playing for team USA. All it took was one plane ride back to Minnesota and they were best friends for life.

Azzi always had loved Paige. Her laugh, her smile, her long blonde hair, her big blue eyes, her pink lips… just normal best friend type of stuff. But as she got older she started to feel differently about Paige. About girls in general.

Azzi had always liked boys- well she liked watching movies about them. Love and basketball was her favorite movie- “I want that type of relationship.” Azzi would say, almost convincing herself.

The thing was, she never really knew if she actually ever had feelings for a guy before. Yes she thought they were attractive. In a world where she personally knew Steph Curry, who wouldn’t think guys were attractive. But the thing was, whenever she pictured a future it never included a guy. Infact Azzi would picture herself alone before she would picture herself settling down with a guy.

Her and Paige even talked about living together jokingly as high schoolers in a purely innocent way.

“If we both don’t find someone by the time we are thirty- I’m gonna have to just marry you.” Paige said with a laugh. Azzi laughed but her laugh never went deeper than the surface. She would have given anything to live with Paige, to marry her, to spend the rest of her life with her. Things would have just been so much easier.

But what did any of that even mean. Paige was just her best friend. Her beautiful, talented best friend, her hot as fu-. Azzi didn’t really finish that thought. Shutting it down before she could let herself admit what she deep down knew already.

—-

“Ya I don’t know about that he seems pretty serious.” Azzi whispered back looking up and gulping when she saw Geno look at her while he spoke.

Paige reassuringly squeezed her wrist, sending butterflies down Azzi’s stomach. Actually they felt more like bald eagles than butterflies to be honest.

—-

An hour later after he was done talking they had a few hours to go back to the dorms before their offseason weight room.

Since Underclassman were not allowed to have cars on campus- Azzi being a freshman and Paige a sophmore decided to walk back to the dorms rather than hitching a ride with the others.

“So… what do you think of the campus so far. It’s awesome, you can say I was right and thank me whenever.” Paige said confidently as she watched Azzi scan the surroundings wide eyed, and taking everything in.

“Ya everything is so much bigger. I’m gonna need an extra hour to get from class to class at this point.” Azzi replied with a laugh.

They continued walking going about their day as usual.

Azzi was excited for this new life at UConn, she looked forward to it. But something about the way Paige looked at her left her wanting more.

As the day turned to night everyone retired to their rooms.

After what felt like forever of just laying in bed unable to sleep Azzi sat up.

12:30 AM Azzi read on her clock next to her. She flopped back down defeatedly.

Azzi had never been away from her parents for more than a day, every team USA tournament her parents went to. She never didn’t have someone to tuck her in.

“Not even 24 hours and I miss my mommy like I’m a five year old.” Azzi whispered to herself.

It may have been better if she had a roomate but no such luck. Her roomate, Ines was an exchange student meaning she would be flying in the next week instead of this one, meaning Azzi was stuck alone.

She couldn’t hide the tear that slipped out of her eye. She could hear people talking down the hall. Her teammates maybe-hopefully.

She climbed out of bed, wearing her black tank top and pink boxer shorts and made her way out of her room. A little down the hall she saw Paige.

Her blonde hair was unmistakable. Her laugh echoing down the long hallway.

Azzi started to walk towards her when suddenly she got a glimpse of the person she was talking to.

The girl was probably one of the prettiest ones she had ever seen- paige was prettier- and she had thick brown curls like Azzi, and tanned skin a bit lighter than Azzi’s.

Azzi watched from a far, the pit in her stomach increasing at the way the girl reached out and squeezed Paige’s arm as she laughed.

Azzi began to turn to head back down the hallway, not wanting to make herself feel any worse than she already felt, and ended up walking right into a lamp.

The sound of the lamp colliding with the floor made Paige shift her attention down the hall where she saw…

“Azzi? Is that you?” She said confused as to why the freshman was up this late when she knew she always went to bed rather early.

Azzi froze in her tracks, picking up the lamp and setting it back on the table. Wiping off her tears, she turned slowly.

“Hi Paige.” She muttered just loud enough for her to hear.

She watched as Paige said bye to the girl and they both walked as she walked down the stairs to leave.

Azzi could feel her heart pound as Paige walked closer towards her.

“Why are you awake.” She checks her phone. “It’s 12:30! You should have been asleep like 3 hours ago huh.” She said softly.

Paige notices the wet streaks on Azzi’s cheek.

“Baby are you okay?” Paige said wrapping an arm around her back.

Azzi shivered at the nickname, that alone was enough to make Azzi forget everything that she was worried about. Forget being homesick, Paige was her home.

“I’ve never slept by myself before.” Azzi admitted.

Paige knew exactly what she meant. Azzi had always been a homebody, now states away from her parents, she was homesick.

“Oh shit I forgot you don’t even have a roommate either right?” Paige said looking at her and running her fingers through her hair lovingly.

Azzi shook her head.

“Let’s get you back to bed.” Paige said walking her back to her room with her hand resting low and protectively on Azzi’s back.

As Azzi climbed back into bed, she attentively watched Paige’s every move.

“Paige?” Azzi asked as Paige reentered her room with a glass of water.

“Ya.” Paige said handing it to Azzi and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Can you stay with me. Just for tonight.”

Paiges heart jumped.

“I’ll stay with you everyday until Ines gets here how bout that?” Paige said standing up and kissing her forehead.

Azzi melted into her touch. She could get used to that.

Azzi nodded watching paige walk over to the other mattress, that had nothing on it.

“Sleep with me.” Azzi said.

Paige raised her eyebrow smirking.

“OH MY GOD PAIGE!” Azzi shrieked throwing a pillow at her head, which Paige of course caught.

Laughing Paige climbed into the small twin size bed with her. They were basically on top of each other, but they tried to keep their hands to themselves- for now.

—-

As the nights went by they started growing closer. Their touches were more affectionate as they lingered. Azzi even woke up the third day with Paiges arms wrapped around her waist, her shirt had risen and Paiges hands were dangerously close to her breasts. Azzi couldn’t shake the feeling that she actually liked it.

“Why the fuck do I want my best friend to touch my boobs?” Azzi said with shock, trying to push it to the side and just let Paige cling to her.

—-

It was finally the weekend. This Saturday they had the day off.

It was around 11:00 and Paige and Azzi were both in her bed.

“Hey wanna watch a movie? We don’t have to be up early tomorrow.” Paige said turning to Azzi. “I brought my iPad.” She said grinning.

Azzi giggled, “only if we can watch frozen.” She said.

Paige sighed pulling it out and propping it against a pillow.

“Whatever you want princess.” She said laughing.

Azzi was praying to god that the purple led lights masked the red glow of her blush.

It was getting harder and harder for her to hide her feelings for Paige. She was so confused. She was striaght though. Definitely straight. Right??

—-

Halfway through the movie Paige got up to grab some snacks.

Paige was wearing just a sports bra- literally no clue why- and Azzi could literally feel her heart beating, maybe something else too but she couldn’t pin point it.

Embarrassingly enough Azzi was a virgin. She hadn’t told anyone, no one really asked either. It wasn’t that no one liked her, she simply just didn’t feel the need to be with anyone like that.

“Why would anyone want to suck someone’s dick that’s just nasty.” Azzi could not understand it for the life of her.

But now with Paige, she would give anything to feel her fingers inside her…. Maybe she was just finally starting to want to have sex. She was just confused it wasn’t fine.

As paige reentered the room her breath shifted. The pants paige was wearing had hung even lower- showing the outline of her V-line, and she had two waters in her arms. Azzi’s attention immediately scanning up and down her body and then focusing on the vein bulging out of her bicep.

“Like what you see.” Paige smirked making her way over to Azzi and setting down the snacks and waters that were saying down her pockets.

Azzi felt her heat spread to her cheeks.

“Sorry I just-“ she honestly had no idea how to cover that up.

“It’s okay I get it. I have been hitting the weight room.” Paige said wrapping her arm around Azzi laughing as she could feel her tense up under her touch.

Paige always had thought Azzi was straight but now she wasn’t so sure.

Azzi had never once talked about her love life. And the way she had looked at her the other day when paige was with another girl… the pieces were starting to connect.

A little while later, paige started to get curious, wanting to test her theory out. She began to move her hand a little lower on Azzi’s side.

She listened to the rise and fall of Azzi’s breath, listened to it speed up as her hand began to move onto her thigh traveling closer and closer inward.

Paige “coughed” accidentally brushing in between her legs causing Azzi to let out a soft moan. Azzi tried to cover it up with a cough but it was too late.

Paige leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

“You like it when I touch you princess? Thought u were straight- I should’ve known a pretty girl like u would want something better than a man.” Paige growled causing Azzi to tense up completely caught off guard by her assumption.

Azzi had never told anyone this, she had no idea how Paige was able to see through her so easily.

“Paige I am straight, what are you talking abo-“ she was caught off by another one of her own gasps as Paige ran her hand back around and placed it on her upper ass.

“See the way you look at me. You sure bout that?” Paige said confidently moving her hand so she was rubbing Azzi’s back through her clothes.

Azzi’s breath hitched feeling Paiges long fingers slip under her shirt and explore higher on her back.

“You seriously mean to tell me you don’t feel anything when I touch you.” Paige said smirking as she continued to rub her back in a way that left Azzi’s mouth watering in desire.

“I- I- don’t know. I don’t know what it feels like.” Azzi replied at a low whisper secretly hoping Paige wouldn’t hear it.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you have never had sex before?? What’s a pretty girl like you doing still a virgin.” Paige said honestly her hand stopping and staying rested on her back.

“I don’t know just never found the right person I guess. I just don’t know what I am, I can’t tell if my feelings are real or not.”

“We’ll have you ever thought about it.” Paige said simply.

“Thought about what?” Azzi asked innocently not sure where this conversation was going.

“About having sex…. I’m sure you have thought about it at least once.” Paige replied.

“I mean I guess kinda but I don’t even know anymore I just feel like my brain is playing tricks on me.” Azzi said shaking her head.

Paige turned Azzi’s face to look at her by grabbing her chin gently.

“Wanna test it out?” Paige said experimentally.

“What do you mean test it out.” Azzi asked confused.

“Paige brought her hand to the front of Azzi’s shirt gently moving it up towards her breasts over her clothes, avoiding them but paying all the attention to them at the same time.

“I mean why don’t you just try it, like get it out of your system, fuck me and then I gaurentee you will know exactly how you should be feeling.” Paige leaned closer into Azzi’s ear grabbing her by the front of her shirt.

“I will make you feel better than anyone else baby.” Paige whispered seductively. Azzi could feel something wet between her legs. She couldn’t explain it, it was feeling she had never really had before.

Without thinking about what this would mean, Azzi nodded.

“Let’s start slow, hm? Ease you into it.” Paige said softly.

Azzi nodded, she trusted paige more than anything. If paige could show her what she needed to know, then why not.

With that, Paige brought her lips so they were hovering just above Azzi’s.

“Let me know when you feel something.” Paige said suggestively right before connecting her lips to Azzi’s.

There was no turning back now. Both girls sinking into the kiss. Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi’s back grabbing at her ass, and Azzi instinctively stabilized herself by grabbing Paige’s neck.

The kiss grew quickly. Azzi let out soft moan telling paige exactly what she needed to know. The second Azzi opened her mouth again letting out a soft whine against paige’s lips, paige shoved her tongue inside her mouth.

Azzi moaned into her mouth feeling Paiges tongue fight against her own. Paige really knew what she was doing.

Both girls worked to get closer to each other, causing paige to lay down on top of Azzi, sticking her leg in between hers. As the kiss quickened, paige moved her knee and pressed it against Azzi’s core causing her to let out a shrill moan.

She had never been touched like that before, paige knew just how to make her feel seen. No one had ever taken care of her needs like this before.

As Azzi began to get more comfortable and grind down on her knee desperate for some friction, Paige pulled back from her.

“You feel anything yet?” Paige said giggling as she could see just how dilated Azzi’s eyebrows were desperately in need of her touch.

“Yes a little.” Azzi admitted focusing down on paige’s fingers that rested on her thigh.

Paige noticed this and smirked, she started to move her fingers closer to Azzi’s center.

“Only a little?” Paige said slyly. “That’s a shame, I thought I felt a little something myself.” Paige said suggestively leaning forward into Azzi’s ear causing her breath to hitch.

“And I really wanted to know what my fingers felt like inside of you.” Paige said smirking against Azzi’s ear.

Azzi couldn’t resist it anymore, grabbbing paige’s collar and pulling her back to her lips.

As Azzi’s tongue filled paige’s mouth, she heard paige let out a tiny soft moan.

“Need you so bad. Show me please. Teach me.” Azzi whined running her hands along paige’s bare abs.

Paige smirked knowingly.

“So needy for me huh.” Paige said reaching down so her thumb was now directly on Azzi’s pussy. She started to rub at it blindly through her clothes.

Feeling Azzi thrust towards her she looked into her eyes.

“Can I take these off baby?” Paige asked not looking away from her big brown eyes begging to be fucked.

Without a word Azzi lifted her but so paige could pull down her shorts and panties in one sweep.

As the air hit her slick she felt nothing but fear and embarrassment. She tried to close her legs, suddenly afraid of what this would mean for her, but paige caught them keeping them apart.

Azzi looked into paige’s eyes and saw nothing but love as paige eyed her pussy hungrily. She laughed. Oops.

Paige looked up at her laughter.

“What’s so funny.” Paige asked confused.

“Nothing it’s just ironic. I think I have had a crush on you this whole time and now hear you are literally staring at my pussy the way I have stared at you all these years.” Azzi answered smiling.

Paige smirked running her hands up her inner thigh, leaning forward to press a kiss against her. Azzi moaned.

She placed another kiss equidistant to the last one.

“I-“ paige started, then left another kiss, sucking a bit harder this time.

“Have felt-” continuing and leaving another kiss.

“The same-“ going back in one more time right above her mound.

“Way.” She finished settling so now she was just hovering over her pussy.

“Don’t just love this pussy tho.” Paige winked right before diving in to attack her clit with her tongue licking a long stripe up her starting from the entrance of her hole and ending at the bundle of nerves. Azzi moaned loudly tugging at paige’s hair, partially from the love confession, and also from the feeling of paige’s powerful tongue attacking her clit.

Azzi couldn’t contain her moans as paige sucked and nipped at her clit pullljngbvack and spiting into it spreading the mixture of spit and cum around her clit with her fingers before sliding one of her fingers teasingly into her hole.

Azzi thrusted forward greedily, needing to feel paige as close to inside of her as possible.

“Baby relax” paige started “lemme show you why gay is better.” She finished before shoving a finger into Azzi.

Azzi’s eyes widened and she propped herself up on her elbows so she could see paige ponding the finger into her and simultaneously using her thumb to rub at her clit in small circles.

“You’re so tight holy fuck.” Paige said as she added another finger leaving Azzi gasping and moving one of her hands to pull paige towards her to kiss her.

Paige swallowed her moans continuing to feel around her cervix with her finger as it went in and out, the wet squishing of Azzi’s cum against paige’s fingers filled the silence of the room.

Pulling back from the kiss paige resumed her focus on her pussy, attaching her tongue to her clit and sucking as she pounded in and out of her.

Paiges middle finger brushed against her g spot causing Azzi to let out a loud breathy moan, arching her back shoving her pussy into paige’s face.

Motivated by Azzi’s actions, paige pulled back again from her clit, using her thumb to rub it up and down, separating her folds to expose the pink center of her clit.

“Prettiest pussy in the world. She loves me.” Paige whispered as if talking to her pussy.

Azzi sat up to look again as paige slowed down, when all of a sudden paige used one of her hands to press down on Azzi’s lower stomach making her feel like she was about to pee, and her with her other hand that was thrusting two fingers in and out of her, she slipped in a third, barely fitting it in Azzi’s tight cunt.

Azzi moaned watching the way her pussy sucked in her fingers so naturally.

As paige leaned back down to her clit, three fingers still pounding into her with power and force, the pressure of paige’s tongue against her was almost too much.

“Paige I’m gonna cum oh my god.” Azzi moaned throwing her head back.

“You can cum for me baby.” Paige said against her pussy the vibrations sending her over the top as she could no longer hold back anymore, streams of cum pouring out of her and paige stuck her tongue out drinking it all up.

Paige slowly worked her fingers getting her through the climax as Azzi was left a heap of tears and moans, still very out of breath. The warm sensation still tingling in her pants.

“Welp I’m definitely gay.” Azzi said with a laugh as paige joined her on the bed.

“Thank god, I have been waiting to hear you say that for fucking years.” paige said turning to her.

“Really?!” Azzi said surprised that who she now realized was her childhood crush had felt the same way for all these years.

“Damn we really have been waiting time not trying this sooner.” Azzi continued, laughing as she saw the paige’s mouth still glistening in the lights with her cum.

“Well I guess we will have to just make this a daily thing then huh.” Paige said smirking pulling Azzi closer to her.

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll show you how to eat me.”

“How about now.” Azzi said confidently flipping them over so paige was back on top of her, where Azzi shimmied down so paige’s cunt was directly above her.

Pulling her shorts and panties to the side, she got right to work.

#azzi fudd #pazzi #paige bueckers #pazzi fic #pazzi fics

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lady-of-endless · 2 days ago

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Seong Gi-hun (player 456) x player!reaader headcanons (season 2)

Author's Note: I woke up with notes on my other Gi-hun post and watched season 2, got hooked again, and decided to write this. I hope you'll enjoy it! Click here for a masterlist because there's more to come.

- The innocence from the first game is lost once and for all. He's unintentionally less approachable now, always stoic, always tense. After the first game, some thought he was either crazy or suspicious. Your gratitude for his help during the first game surpassed any way you pictured him before. So you decide to keep an eye on him.

- Gi-hun is too focused on the game system and guards to notice you studying him from time to time. He's both amazed and worried about how different the players are from the first time he was there. But if there's one thing that remains the same, it's the sudden greed when the prize is getting higher with each elimination.

- But he doesn't see that in you. After the first game, you understood the gravity of the situation and forgot about the money. The moment the piggy fills with money and everyone is in awe except for him, you look around and your eyes lock with his. He finally notices you then and there. Why? Because you're the only one not looking at the money anymore.

- The second time he will notice you is when you won't eat well because of all the stress and shock. Gi-Hun silently approaches you, sits next to you, and calmly explains how you must eat to have energy for the next game. Despite his stoic tone, you can see worry in his eyes.

- During one night, when he is the only one awake to watch around, you join him in silence. That's when you start opening up to him more. He wasn't expecting it at all.

- He will never judge your reasoning for entering this wicked game. Gi-hun will just listen and try to show understanding.

- Since then, you stayed close to him. He didn't mind it at all. Plus, his mind was already busy with plans and possibilities to save as many as he could.

- You'd think that he might've developed trust issues but his heart didn't allow that. Not when he got attached so fast. You were always there to support him or help him find the right words to convince other players to stop the game from continuing. Slowly, you become something like his confidant even if he forced himself to be cautious around other players.

- When he opens up to you, he opens up about his experience first. He's done it before, telling people what he went through with this damned game but no one asked him how he feels after everything, except for you. He's stunned. It feels like you somehow made your way inside and he's powerless, he can't do anything about it,

- His hands twitch and his body tenses every time you risk getting hurt. He's not even aware of how ready he is to rush to you and help if you need it. But the others are aware. Some will notice how you two simply gravitate closer to each other. Watch out for a jealous-looking Hwang In-ho (player 001).

- Seon-Nyeo (player 044) talked to you two about how you are doomed because of a curse and other scary spiritual details, the way she does with everyone. Gi-hun was unfazed but his eyes softened when he saw you a little bit worried and disturbed. He comforted you, put a hand on your shoulder, and gave it a reassuring squeeze with a half smile (it's still hard for him to smile again, but he'll do it for you).

- He promises you that he'll get you safe out of there, every day and every night.

- Whatever you two will have, he will insist on being kept secret so you won't be in any additional danger because of him.

#squid game #squidgame #seong gi hun #player 456 #seong gi hun x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x you #player 456 x reader #squid game fic #squid game headcanons

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bwat5-blog · 2 days ago

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Why Didn't We See Cait Tell Vi About Jinx?

**Spoilers For Arcane***

There has been a tremendous amount of conversation regarding Jinx's fate in the end of the show. I think by now, most of us seem to agree she is alive. There is a significant amount of evidence. But one of the conversations I have enjoyed reading different takes on, is did Caitlyn tell Vi her suspicions? should she? and why didn't we see one way or the other? This will be fairly short compared to my usual work, I just wanted to delve into these questions, offer my thoughts, and hopefully get some good discussion out of it!

THE EVIDENCE: (In no particular order)

The Shimmer streak right as the explosion occurs

I have seen some argue that it's simply the purple inside the bomb. This is possible of course but it seems extremely directed.

2. Caitlyn's investigations

When it is all said and done, we have a quiet moment with Caitlyn investigating the cooling/vent system of the tower where Jinx died, as well has holding the mostly intact head of her monkey bomb. the implication here is quite clear. But of course it is not definitive. They are only telling us she reason to be thinking about Jinx being alive.

3. Full Circle

The second shot is the last one of the show.. if we didn't have the first shot to fall back to it would feel quite random but if you think back to that, it seems quite clear what they are implying. Additionally although I don't have a good way to share it here, the score in this moment is variation on "Dear friend across the river" which we hear Powder singing to open the whole show.

4. Glitched The End

That is the very last shot we are given and the animation is very in line with the glitch style of Jinx we have come to know so well.

5. Arcane Afterglow For Act 3

youtube

Skip to 1:19 if that is all you are here for

________________________________________________

There are others for sure. I saw someone in the community post some pages from the artbook showing things like "i'm still here" I believe it was. And I know there have been other interviews and such. This is just what I am personally aware of. And while of course I am just a regular fan and I don't know any better than any of you, this is all enough for me to feel confidant saying she's alive. I am of a similar opinion to many I have seen. I do not think Caitlyn had told Vi by the end of what we saw, but I think it's because she herself is not 100% sure yet.

Why isn't she sure?

Well even using the evidence I listed, only one out of those five points is something Caitlyn would be aware of. Now I do think she is probably fairly confidant, as the implication of her investigating at all was very clear. But keeping in mind that she knows how badly Vi wanted to save Jinx, and the enormity of the guilt Vi must feel given that Jinx had to save her (Vi was legitimately having a dissociative episode born of her PTSD and there was nothing she could do. Don't start with me Anti-Vi'ers), I think Caitlyn would be very careful to not give Vi false hope.

Would Caitlyn Even Tell Vi and Risk Her leaving?

I think so. And my reasoning is that she has done it before. When she paved the way for Vi to free Jinx, there was every possibility the sisters would vanish into the night and Caitlyn would never see them again. With that in mind, and their dynamic in general with Caitlyn probably feeling she has a tremendous amount of trust to keep rebuilding between them, I seriously doubt she would risk hiding something so large from Vi if she felt confidant Jinx was alive. Jinx wanted Vi to live free of their past and find her happiness. I think Caitlyn would honor giving Vi the choice and hope for the best. Especially taking into account the whole dynamic around Caitlyn showing Vi how much she loves and respects not only her, but her heart. She cherishes the heart that drives Vi to protect those she loves. I don't see Caitlyn betraying that by trying to control her.

Is it better for Vi to know?

This one is tough. On the one hand, we have to factor all the things we already discussed in. We know Vi wanted them to be together. We know she is probably torturing herself over her sister's perceived death. But, we also have to consider the other side. Because by the end the Sisters are family again. So why would Jinx leave and not tell Vi the truth?:

Jinx herself will never know peace in Piltover or Zaun (at least as things are now). I'm not doing a whole thing here, but in Zaun they all want her to be their symbol. And in Piltover, regardless of her heroism or the reason she did what she did, there will always be stares and whispers for her crimes. Not to mention the whole process of whatever resolving the issues of her crimes would mean in the first place. It would not only be trouble for her, but probably for Vi and Caitlyn as well. She gave Vi permission to move forward with her life, and we saw Vi take it which is a reason to be hopeful. But if I were Jinx, and I had decided to leave, I would be very aware of the possibility that Vi would feel honor bound to leave the love she had found, and turn her back on the peace Jinx tried to convince her she deserves. Because while Vi is full to the brim with wonderful qualities, her journey to believing her own self-worth is still very new. And I think Jinx wisely would be worried Vi could not let her go alone. Just as Vi has to start finding herself free of their past, Jinx needs the same. It's not that she doesn't love Vi. I think she has made it EXTREMELY CLEAR that she does. But in terms of her mental state and her arc, I think she has resolved the conflict between the shattered ghost of Powder, and Silco's terrorist daughter. she IS JINX. She is no longer A JINX. And I think to find out what that means, she has to step away from the shadows of her past and start completely over. Just as Vi has to start finding out who she is without the crushing guilt and pain of their childhood. Listen yall, I know I can be quite harsh on Jinx especially because Vi is my favorite. But let me bring you back to something I first realized in my deep-dive on the sisters relationship.

Vi is a courageous, loving, and loyal sister who would fist fight the devil himself with one hand tied behind her back for her loved ones. But she is still only a person. And as always, the brilliantly heart wrenching writing of this show tells us exactly how Jinx feels about her older sister in the opening of the show, and proves it again at the end:

Even when they were little girls on that bridge, Vi walked tall, trying to shield Powder from the horror around them. But when it became too much, when the horror, and the pain, and the loss overwhelmed her, Powder threw her small body over her big sister trying with everything in her to be that shield for Vi.... Just as she would the next time Violet needed her...

I am firmly and completely convinced she would not leave Vi like that unless she truly felt it was the right thing for both of them. She has come to far and been through too much. Agree or disagree, I think she is doing her best to be that sister Vi deserves once more. Even if its painful.

What I Hope:

My hope, is that Caitlyn shares her information with Violet when she feels she has enough to not devastate her beloved with false hope. And that hearing that, Vi will choose to honor her sister's decision, as well as see the truth that she herself deserves love, and peace, and safety, and be at peace. My hope is that in the end, Vi can see Jinx's decision was not one of neglect, or abandonment, or crisis. But just as Vi had always tried so hard to be Jinx needed, in that moment Jinx saw what they both needed, and made the hard call, to give them both the chance the world tried to steal from them.

Thank you all for reading. I know I have been a tad feisty lately and I wanted to get back to talking about what I love about this show! These characters and this story connect with us all on such deep levels because of their humanity. Their flaws, their strengths, the moments they succeed and the moments they fall short. Ultimately, we can't know if Violet will do the right thing if and when she finds out. But she and Caitlyn give me hope. I hope this has done the same for you.

Never stop standing for the stories that matter. See yall next time!

#arcane #arcane season 2 spoilers #vi arcane #caitvi #jinx arcane #caitlyn kiramman #vi and jinx #powder #arcane vi #long post #Youtube

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lilreidgirl · 3 days ago

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Bad guy

Summary: Your ex boyfriend, Rafe, thinks he’s a tough guy so you have to put him back in his place, sort of

Warnings: MDNI(18+), oral (fem receiving), nipple play and boob groping, bloody nose and punching, switch!reader and Rafe, TOXIC reader and Rafe, very possessive, swearing, nicknames/name calling (angel, baby, big man, little bitch, etc…), very heavily inspired by bad guy cause I have writers block so I can only write things based off of songs…

WC: ~1.4k

A/N: Heyy guys!! Sorry, I disappeared, I’ll try posting more. But also first post of 2025!!!!

Fucking idiot.

That’s all that ran through your mind when you say the blood splayed out all over his white shirt and the guy you were just flirting with’s face. Red stained all over the sand under the boy’s nose, more and more liquid spewing from it by the second.

“Fuck!” The guy — you think his name was Jonathan or something — screamed, hand coming up to cup his broken nose. “I- I think it’s broken,” he whined, looking around at the people surrounding him with panic in his horse voice, “That motherfucker broke my nose!”

Just as he yelled out the wonderfully endearing term, your gaze fell on said “motherfucker” sneaking away, using the commotion of Jonathan’s screaming to slip away without being seen.

Motherfucker thought he was so smooth, huh?

You scoffed as you followed.

Soon Rafe had lead you both to a completely different bay, a small one almost no one knew about, one he had shown you on your second date.

“Rafe!” You called out his name as you caught up with him, watching as he immediately turned around, slightly feral looking eyes landing on your own.

“What the fuck was that?” You spat out. Of course, you already knew the answer; he got jealous when he saw you — his ex — flirt with another guy and lashed out. What more can one expect from a man, right?

“Oh, you’re asking me that? You’re the one who’s flirting with all these fucking men at parties like a fucking slut! You’re mine! Mine.” Your eyes studied the way he was staring at you, the expression on his face was one you could always recognise easily. The rage, the savagery, the insanity.

You used to be the one to calm him down, to slowly make that look fade away and blossom into a smile. The day you broke things off with him you promised yourself to never be the one to do it again. It wasn’t your responsibility.

“We broke up.” Your words carried a heavy weight with them, the weight crashing down on Rafe almost instantly.

“You belong to me.” He stated, a fire that seemed to have originated straight from hell burned behind his usually piercing blue eyes, now just a dark navy swimming amongst the shadows of the night sky and the calm ocean waves.

“Oh yeah? Think you’re so tough, huh?” You couldn’t have held back the chuckle that left you if you had tried which you definitely didn’t.

“Get on your knees.” Your voice ordered.

“What?” His mien shifted to one you couldn’t quite read.

“C’mon, big man, you heard me.” The tone of your voice was taunting and you couldn’t help but smirk at the way it felt to say it.

“Get. On. Your. Knees. Now.”

With an undercurrent of hesitation, he sank to his knees, bare skin of his shins hitting the sand as he squatted down in front of you.

His eyes travelled down your body, clad in a black bikini and white shorts. The marks he had left on your delicate skin when you were together still slightly present, little pink spots placed where dark hickies once lay, tiny crescents of his nails dug into your thighs, memories of bruises on your knees from all the times he’d made them scrape down onto the ground.

The gawking at your body didn’t go unnoticed by you. You leaned down, bending your knees under you, ass resting on your ankles so that you were eye level with him.

“You always were rough, weren’t you?” Your fingers glided over the slightly rough area of your joints. “Just couldn’t get enough?”

It was obvious that the questions were rhetorical yet he still answered with a short and eager nod.

As a cruel grin grew on your lips, you took hold of Rafe’s hand and guided it behind you. Like clockwork he promptly tugged at one of the strings connecting the bow that was keeping your bikini tight around your chest.

The flimsy piece of swimwear dropped to the ground, covering the little sandy surface that now lay under it.

“You’re so fucking stunning, angel,” he praised, the nickname making you huff away a suppressed laugh.

His large hands reached up, slim fingers skimming over your smooth mounds.

“You sure you wanna do this, baby?” You asked.

“God, yes.” One of his hands enclosed around your right breast, squeezing gently while the other pinched the nipple of your left breast between his fingers, rolling over it with his thumb.

Straightaway your head fell back in pleasure, breaths coming out in small pants as you questioned, “Yeah? Once we start this again, it won’t end.”

To your ears it sounded like a threat, it possibly actually was, but to Rafe’s? He was convinced it was the best promise ever made to him.

“Please.” He sounded desperate and you absolutely loved it.

“Stupid.” You muttered under your breath, unsure if Rafe had heard the whispered comment or not.

“Don’t you see what I do to you, Rafey?” Your fingers clipped into his blonde hair, tugging you closer together as your ass rose from your ankles.

“Your mommy fucking hates me, your sister avoids me at all costs, your friends think I’m crazy and I’d quite literally fuck your daddy if he let me.” A loud whisper left him as you pulled him even closer, roughly shoving his face against your chest. Right away his mouth wrapped around your left nipples, his silken tongue flicking and tasting at your sensitive bud as he moaned.

“I’m the bad guy.”

With a brutal force you hauled his face away from your body and stared down at his eyes as they looked up at you with a hint of surprise.

“And you’re my little bitch, huh?” Your lips met each other in a heated, dark kiss as your hands cascaded all over each other’s bodies.

After a few seconds, when it seemed Rafe had finally come to his senses he jerked backwards, breaking the kiss.

“Don’t call me that.” He spat, anger snd disbelief costing his beautiful features.

“I can call you whatever I want.” You snapped back, dominate overtaking your tone.

Instantaneously Rafe grabbed your thighs and in one fluid motion laid down on the sandy beach and yanked you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist.

“Acting like you can fucking order me around now, huh?” He questioned, eyes boring into your face.

“Outta teach you a lesson.” Was the last thing he said before he turned you around to face the same direction as him and tugged down your shorts and panties, stripping you of all your clothes, before dragging you to hover over his face.

Shaky exhales left you as you felt his hot breath hit your bare core.

“Rafe…” you whined as your hands settled on his shirtless upper body, nails digging into his pecs.

“Shh, angel, just let me take care of you, okay?” Before you could even think about answers he found respite between your supple thighs, his hands tainting your body, kneading and bruising at your soft skin while his rough, curling tongue laps over your soppy cunt.

With loud moans and whines ripping through your body, you dragged your fingers from his bare chest to his neck, wrapping your hands around his throat, feeling his tongue stutter against your clit which made an even more forceful groan escape you.

“Fuck, Rafe!” Your hands tightened around his neck, grinding your sex down onto his nose and mouth. “I’m gonna come!”

Your words made his actions even more vigorous and soon you were reaching your high, moaning his name as he tongue-fucked you through your orgasm.

After the trembling of your legs had slightly calmed down you collapsed forward, resting against his torso.

You felt a small kiss be placed on your sensitive clit, making your body jolt and cry out.

When you’d felt you’d rested enough you got up, quickly grabbing your bikini and shorts and putting them back on.

Rafe sat up and watched you get clothed again, ruffling his hair to get a bit of the sand out.

“So… does this mean we’re back together?” He asked.

“Uhh…”

@emma-e-a

#outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #outerbanks x reader #rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #outerbanks x you #outer banks #drew starkey smut #Spotify

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stellar-solar-flare · 16 hours ago

Text

I’m so glad to finally be back to this story! The end of the year 2024 was a rotten cherry on top of a trash fire cake which was a drain on my energy. But I definitely haven’t forgotten about this one – especially since I have been super amazed at how quickly you’ve been able to write this story and publish it. You’re awesome! I’ve seen some light spoilers to this on my dash from people’s comments so I know it’s going to be a ride and I’m here for it!

You’re not anxious at all over meeting with Pepper, but what has you on alert is the possibility that you could theoretically meet Steve Rogers, former Captain America, today.

Oh, interesting. So we’re seeing subtle hints that she’s a Steve girl right off the bat – but then again, like when we see her think about her friendship with Pepper, it’s clear that she’s not just starstruck or someone easily swooned by celebrity status. Are we harboring perhaps a little crush here?

Your background in political science and your years working in non-profit management seem like they could be useful, but you can't help feeling a little out of your depth.

I always say in comments that I enjoy it when we see the little things that make the Reader similar to Steve, or qualities that I know Steve will find attractive, and I feel like working in a non-profit is definitely one of those. Doing her best to make a better world.

You were among the half who disappeared - still such a strange concept to grasp though you were supposedly settled back in.

I don’t read a lot of post-Endgame fics / fics that deal with the Blip one way or the other, but when I do read them, I immensely enjoy writers working with all the things that the Blip would cause, and I think we’ll see a layered, deep approach on it from you in this fic! I’m definitely curious.

"There's Maria Hill," Pepper continues, "who's handling security and intelligence briefings. She's got connections that'll be invaluable. Then there's Peter Parker - you might know him as Spider-Man - he's officially our youth outreach coordinator, but he's also got a brilliant scientific mind that we're tapping into for policy development."

Oh it’s lovely to see that Peter is still around the Stark Foundation even with Tony gone, and hehehe, the little reveal of his identity. I love how competent we see Pepper be here, how she’s been so good at putting this team together.

You feel your jaw drop in shock, almost hitting the ground as your mind races with disbelief and anger. The room feels like it's spinning as you struggle to process the weight of her words.

I love how you wrote her shock here; it makes sense that her first reaction to this would be anger – she would feel like she’d be just a trophy wife when she’s been hoping for a big role. And while I’m certain she’ll have just that big role, it makes sense that initially a marriage of state, essentially, would sound insane in modern-day America.

"I know," Pepper says softly. "That's part of the plan. We want to show that leadership isn't about who you're married to or what your last name is. It's about vision, compassion, and the ability to bring people together."

But I really like this point. It feels very Steve – I adored all the glimpses we saw into his plans through her thoughts, as well as her note about not even being able to sleep – to create a world like this and especially lead by example.

“We have an opportunity to show what a healthy partnership in marriage could look like to new generations. You’re my first and only choice because of your skills, experience, and the vision I know you would bring to the table. But you’re also my first and only choice because I think you two are well-suited for each other.”

I really really love this, in addition to the way we see Pepper go through the strategic side of this, the polls and expectations and all this. This feels like something that Steve would agree to, in the end. After all, he is from a world where marriage wasn’t so focused on romantic love. But since he is a romantic, I’m definitely looking forward to them falling in love.

A soft laugh falls from Pepper’s mouth. “He actually asked the same thing.”

Hehe, more of the little things that show they’re similar.

And yet, there's a part of you that's intrigued by the challenge, by the opportunity to make a real difference on such a grand scale.

I love her your honor. I always enjoy Readers that are shown to be competent and not afraid of going after what they want. Also this is a very Steve thing again.

You both lost husbands, but you don’t want to talk about it, yet again, and you don’t want to bring up a painful subject for her either.

Oh, I’m intrigued by this. Is she a widow too?

"You must be the future Mrs. Rogers," Sam says with a warm smile, extending his hand. "I'm Sam Wilson. Steve asked me to come apologize and explain - and to have breakfast with you, if you’ll have me.”

Oh, I wonder what came up for Steve to skip this. But aww, I hope she and Sam end up being friends, as I can definitely see that happening.

“President Bartlet?” you can’t help the awe in your voice. “I’d skip out on breakfast with me, too.”

Oh, yeah, that makes sense. It’d be very beneficial for him, and I enjoyed seeing that Reader understands. And yay, we’ll be seeing more Sam in the fic!

“I can’t help being a little disappointed - since I was hoping to finally meet my future husband - but he’s unemployed and you’re technically Captain America, so I guess it’s really an upgrade.”

Oh, you and me both, Sam. I really really like this Reader. I’ll nickname her the First Lady for comment purposes, since that’s easier for me. I hope you don’t mind!

"Trust me, Steve takes this very seriously," Sam says, his tone becoming more earnest. "He may not know you yet, but he respects you and the commitment you're making. He's not the type to back out or let you down."

Oh, Aspen, you’re coming straight for my heart with this. This isn’t even a thirst trap, it’s a heart trap, and that’s worse. I love how serious we see Steve be about this from the beginning, and I really like how reassuring Sam is here too.

"But then again, I've seen a lot of crazy things in my time with the Avengers. This? This actually feels like one of the more normal things I've been part of."

Also this tracks, and I wonder if this is a part of Steve’s mindset too.

"Steve's one of the best men I know. He's loyal, compassionate, and has a moral compass that doesn't quit. But he's also been through a lot, and he can be... guarded. It might take some time for him to open up fully."

This makes complete sense, and I am HERE for the pining and the slow burn that’ll follow from this. It’s very compassionate of Sam to warn her about this so she doesn’t get the wrong idea about Steve’s behavior, if he’s going to be a little distant. And also this has the delightful found family vibes – which are definitely highlighting some major loss in First Lady’s background, I mean, she has to have a hint of craziness and not a lot to lose to jump into this headfirst – that I always enjoy in fic.

Sam grins. "Trust me, once you two actually meet, you'll see what I mean. Just don't let that 'aw shucks' routine fool you. He might look like an all-American boy scout, but there's a lot more going on under the surface."

I’m definitely looking forward to all this characterization; from the (shamefully few) works that I’ve read from you so far, I know you write Steve in a very human way. And this is definitely hinting towards how he’s not just the perfect soldier or the good man but human and I am always here here for it. And we love Sam for recognizing all this in his friend.

Also as a more general note, I enjoyed Reader having these little doubts about the marriage side of it working – there is definitely hint here that while she’s not waiting to be swept off her feet, she’s certainly not going for a simple marriage of convenience. I always enjoy fics that show that wanting love and to be loved aren’t mutually exclusive with things like strength or independence.

You learn about Steve's dry sense of humor, his unwavering loyalty to his friends, and his surprising skill at sketching. Sam describes missions where Steve's quick thinking saved the day, but also quieter moments - movie nights with the team, intense debates over board games, and Steve's ongoing struggle to catch up on pop culture.

I love this for her. And for Steve. That she goes into the whole marriage knowing not only Cap but also Steve Rogers. I am VERY excited for the wedding, and not just because I love weddings. I know it's the delicious sort of slow burn when they don't even lay an eye on each other in the first two chapters.

I’m so glad to be back at this and I’m so looking forward to diving into the next chapter! Sorry if I got a little rambly or overexcited but I had so many thoughts. I hope you're well and the muse is behaving!

Red, White & True: Manhattan & Brooklyn (1/?)

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers (future x curvy Millennial Female!Reader), Pepper Potts, Sam Wilson Word Count: 4k Summary: "There was an idea..." Words at the heart of what brought the Avengers together. Pepper Potts has persuaded Steve Rogers to step up and help again - but this time in a battle to The White House. She invites you to consider a key position.

Content/Warnings: none

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Prologue | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[MAY 15 - Manhattan, New York]

You try not to hold still while you wait in the lobby, but you’re nervous and the longer you sit, the more difficult it is to resist drumming your fingers, tapping your foot, jiggling your right leg as it’s crossed over your left, or even just chewing on your bottom lip.

You’re not anxious at all over meeting with Pepper, but what has you on alert is the possibility that you could theoretically meet Steve Rogers, former Captain America, today.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. The lobby of Stark Industries is immaculate, all sleek lines and modern design. The large windows let in plenty of natural light, making the space feel open and inviting despite its corporate purpose.

Your mind wanders back to your college days when you’d walked into a different Stark Industries lobby for the first time, a hopeful intern wanting to make a difference at the then-new Stark Foundation office. Pepper had been very involved in building the Foundation at the time, and had become a key mentor and - as the years passed and you left Stark Industries - a dear friend. She had helped fuel some of your late-night study sessions through grad school. Living in a new state, she had shown up and seen you through breakups, family drama, and the stress of putting together your thesis. Even when your paths diverged, you'd managed to stay in touch.

Back then, she’d become like the older sister you never had, seeing you through some of the difficult years figuring out how to be a real adult. Now, here you are, waiting to potentially join a presidential campaign she’s orchestrating for none other than Steve Rogers.

The receptionist's voice startles you out of your reverie. "Ms. Potts will see you now."

You stand, smoothing down your carefully chosen outfit - professional, but not stuffy. As you follow the receptionist down the hallway, your mind races with possibilities. What position could Pepper have in mind for you? Your background in political science and your years working in non-profit management seem like they could be useful, but you can't help feeling a little out of your depth.

As you approach Pepper's office, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. The door opens, and there she is - Pepper Potts, looking as poised and confident as ever in a crisp white blouse and tailored navy suit. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her smile is warm and welcoming.

"It's so good to see you," she says, embracing you in a quick hug. "Come in, please."

You step into her spacious office, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows with a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Pepper gestures to a comfortable-looking chair across from her desk, and you sit, trying to keep your nerves in check.

"I appreciate you coming on such short notice," Pepper begins. "I know it's been a few years since we’ve been able to catch up - even before the Blip.”

You were among the half who disappeared - still such a strange concept to grasp though you were supposedly settled back in. “I was happy to come! And of course I don’t mind a trip on the Stark Industries dime,” you say with a grin.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine, thanks."

Pepper settles into her chair, folding her hands on the desk. "So, I know I told you we’re putting together the campaign team for Rogers for America, but I'm sure you're wondering more specifically why I called you here."

You nod, leaning forward in your chair, eager to hear Pepper’s vision.

"We're putting together an incredible team," she begins, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've been reaching out to some of the brightest minds in politics, economics, and social justice. We have former White House staffers, grassroots organizers, and even a few unexpected faces from the private sector who are eager to contribute their expertise."

You are instantly intrigued, trying to imagine the caliber of people she's describing. Your mind races with possibilities - perhaps that brilliant campaign manager who orchestrated the upset victory in the last Senate race, or the economist whose revolutionary ideas about sustainable development have been making waves in academic circles.

"We've got strategists who are anticipating every move our opponents might make," Pepper continues, "and communications experts who can craft messages that will resonate with voters across the political spectrum.”

You listen intently, trying to pinpoint where you might fit into this powerhouse group.

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Spider-Man.

Pepper leans forward, her eyes locking with yours. "But here's the thing - we're not just assembling a team of political operatives and policy experts. We need people who understand the heart of what we're trying to do, who can see the bigger picture and help keep us grounded in our core values."

Your heart begins to race as you start to realize where this might be going.

"That's where you come in," Pepper says, a warm smile spreading across her face. "I've watched your career over the years, how you've navigated the non-profit world, building coalitions and making real change happen. You have a gift for bringing people together, for seeing connections that others miss. Your experience gives you a unique perspective that we desperately need."

Your heart races as you process her words. You had assumed you might be offered some kind of advisory role, perhaps in fundraising or event planning. Maybe even appearance management or offering occasional input on strategy. But from Pepper's tone, it sounds like she has something more substantial in mind.

"Where do you see me on this team?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I've been putting a lot of thought into this," Pepper continues, her voice filled with conviction. “You know we’re doing something unconventional. Did you read the presidential plan?”

You nod. Steve’s bid for President of the United States was still technically not public knowledge. You had signed an NDA - being told only that you were receiving a proposal Pepper wanted your input and consultation on, with potential to join the team if you supported the initiative, and just silence if you didn’t.

“It’s bold, idealistic, aspirational; but it’s also unapologetic, has clear plans of action, and could be transformational in ways we haven’t seen in living memory,” you give your assessment.

“And it’s something you could see yourself being a part of?”

You take a deep breath, but smile genuinely. “I couldn’t sleep the first night after you sent it over. I couldn’t stop reading, hoping, re-reading, imagining possibilities!”

“Good,” Pepper responds. “Perfect.”

“Put me to work wherever you need me!”

“I was hoping you would say that because I have a very specific position I need to get filled, and you’re my first - and only - pick for the job.”

“Pepper, stop holding out!” A nervous and eager laugh escapes you. “Tell me!”

Her response slams into you like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Future First Lady.”

You feel your jaw drop in shock, almost hitting the ground as your mind races with disbelief and anger. The room feels like it's spinning as you struggle to process the weight of her words.

"What?" you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. "Pepper, I... I don't understand. First Lady? But that would mean..."

Pepper holds up a hand, her expression serious. "We're not just running a campaign here. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country. Steve is an incredible man, and he needs a partner who understands the complexities of modern America, not just a trophy wife, someone who can connect with people from all walks of life."

You shake your head, still reeling. "But I'm not - I mean, Steve and I aren't even - we've never even met!"

Pepper leans back in her chair, her expression at least revealing some concern over your reaction. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"A lot to take in?" you interrupt, your voice rising. "Pepper, it's insane! It’s May, and the election is in November. How could I possibly be the First Lady?"

Pepper holds up a hand, trying to calm you. "I know, I know. Let me explain."

But you're on a roll now, your initial shock giving way to indignation. "Explain what? How you thought it was okay to offer me a position that requires me to be married to a stranger? Use me to score points?”

"I understand your reaction," Pepper says calmly, "but please, hear me out. This isn't about scoring political points or creating some sham marriage. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Go on," you say, your voice tight, “because you’re still trotting out marriage.”

"We can’t outright ignore traditional expectations and polling numbers. If Steve were running as the nominee for either of the major parties, we could probably win without him being married, but since he’s running as an independent, he needs a wife. That being said, we want to move away from the traditional concept of the First Lady as just the President's wife," Pepper explains. "The vision is a First Partnership. Two people who work together. There’ve been a few First Ladies who have done more with their platform and position, and that’s what we would want for you, too.”

You chew on your lip, not persuaded yet, but a little less angry.

You open your mouth to protest, but Pepper raises her hand to stop you.

“You and Steve don’t have to put on a show and be madly in love - that’s not what I want, that’s not what he wants or expects either.”

You frown. “What does he expect?” you ask. And then you perk up even more. “Has he agreed to this? Shouldn’t he at least be here to make the offer himself?”

Pepper sighs. “It was easier for me to convince him to run in the first place than to agree that he needed a wife.”

“But you’re telling me he did agree?”

Pepper nods. “He did.”

You unconsciously rub the empty space on your left ring finger. “Couldn’t we just get engaged and leave the question of a marriage for whether or not he wins?”

A soft laugh falls from Pepper’s mouth. “He actually asked the same thing.”

“And…?” You raise your eyes expectantly.

“The public would rake us over the coals and accuse us of only doing it as a publicity stunt. The campaign would become a gossip column on your relationship status and nothing more.”

“But isn’t it a publicity stunt?”

“We can spin a marriage that seems to appear out of nowhere. Steve’s always been a private person when it comes to his personal life. We will tell people you met through me - which is true. I thought you were well-suited for each other - which I do. When people asked why the wedding just before announcing his bid for the presidency, we tell them you two didn’t want your relationship status to become the big question on everyone’s minds so they can focus on the platforms and policies instead and that every marriage takes work regardless of the length of the courtship.”

You sit in stunned silence for a moment, trying to process everything Pepper has said. The idea of marrying someone you've never met, let alone becoming the First Lady of the United States, seems utterly surreal. And yet, there's a part of you that's intrigued by the challenge, by the opportunity to make a real difference on such a grand scale.

"I need some time to think about this," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Pepper nods understandingly. "Of course. It's a lot to take in. But I want you to know that I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't think you were perfect for this role. Not just as a political partner, but as someone who could genuinely connect with Steve."

You raise an eyebrow. "You really think we'd be well-suited?"

"I do," Pepper says with confidence and warmth.

You rub your ring finger again, but this time you see Pepper’s eyes drop to watch your unconscious action, and you quickly stop. Her eyes, when you meet them again, are full of sympathy. You both lost husbands, but you don’t want to talk about it, yet again, and you don’t want to bring up a painful subject for her either.

She can read that in your tight-lipped smile.

So instead she says, “I can give you three days to think it over.”

You sigh and rise from your seat to go. “I don’t know if that’s long enough, but if you give me three days or three weeks, I don’t think it will change my decision I’ll land on. Give me the night to sleep on it. I think I’ll know by tomorrow morning.”

[JUNE 4 - Brooklyn, New York]

Three weeks later, your life has been packed up and put in a truck on its way to the new brownstone in Brooklyn that’s been acquired for you and Steve to move into, and you’re sitting at a table in a café a few blocks away, waiting to meet your future husband for the first time over breakfast. Every time the bell rings over the door, you dart your head to see if it’s him, but he’s evidently running late.

As you wait, checking to see if you have any messages on your phone, the bell over the door chimes once more. This time, when you look up, your breath catches in your throat. A tall, athletic man with dark skin and an easy smile has entered the café. You recognize him immediately as Sam Wilson, the new Captain America. Your heart sinks a little as you realize Steve isn't with him.

Sam spots you and makes his way over, his stride confident but casual. As he approaches, you notice the way his eyes scan the room, a habit born from years of military training and superhero work. He's dressed in civilian clothes - a leather jacket over a simple t-shirt and jeans - but there's no mistaking the aura of strength and capability that surrounds him.

You nod, forcing a smile, and shake his hand. "Of course. I understand.” You motion toward the chair across the table from you, inviting him to sit. “I know campaign prep must keep him incredibly busy."

Ever since you’d accepted the proposition to marry Steve Rogers and join him on the campaign trail to the White House, your own life had turned upside down, giving you hardly any time to breathe, and you’d been told this was only a mild version of what your own schedule was going to look like once Steve formally announced.

“Former President Bartlet agreed to meet with him, and the schedules ended up aligning this morning for Steve to go up to New Hampshire for a sit down,” Sam explains.

“President Bartlet?” you can’t help the awe in your voice. “I’d skip out on breakfast with me, too.”

“I hope I’m not a disappointment of a substitute,” Sam teases. “Since we’ll be working together as part of the senior staff, I volunteered because I was eager to finally meet you.”

His smile is genuine, and you feel the absolute truth of his sentiment. It melts away some of your disappointment and worry.

In return, your smile becomes a little warmer and easier. “I can’t help being a little disappointed - since I was hoping to finally meet my future husband - but he’s unemployed and you’re technically Captain America, so I guess it’s really an upgrade.”

Sam laughs. “Oh, I’m going to love you, I can tell.”

“Just promise me he’ll actually be at the ceremony tomorrow?” you ask. Your tone is light, but Sam calls your bluff.

His laughter fades, replaced by a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he'll be there. Wild horses couldn't keep him away. Or androids. Or aliens. Or wizards. Or..." He trails off, realizing he might be overdoing it. "You get the idea."

You nod, appreciating Sam's attempt at humor. "I hope so. It would be pretty awkward to explain to the press why the groom was a no-show at his own wedding."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. "I suppose I should get used to schedule changes and last-minute adjustments," you say, trying to keep your tone light.

"It's part of the package," Sam agrees. "But so is having a team of people who have your back, no matter what." He leans forward, his eyes meeting yours intently. "I want you to know that includes me. We're not just colleagues in this; we're family."

His words touch you deeply, and you feel a bloom of warmth in your chest, the firs time you’ve felt grounded since you agreed to do this. "Thank you, Sam," you manage to say. "That means a lot."

The waitress approaches, he orders coffee, and you both order breakfast.

As she walks away, you take a sip of the drink you’d ordered while you were waiting before, mulling over Sam's words. "Can I ask you something, Sam? You know Steve better than almost anyone. Do you think...?”

You hesitate, uncertain if you should voice your doubts to Sam. But his open, friendly demeanor encourages you to continue, and you’re going to need to learn to trust this new circle of people you’ll be surrounded with.

"Do you think this is crazy?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Marrying someone I've never even met, maybe becoming First Lady... it all feels so surreal."

Sam leans back in his chair, considering your question carefully. "Crazy? Maybe," he admits with a small smile. "But then again, I've seen a lot of crazy things in my time with the Avengers. This? This actually feels like one of the more normal things I've been part of."

You can't help but chuckle at that, some of the tension easing from your shoulders.

"Look," Sam continues, his tone becoming more serious. "I won't lie to you. It's not going to be easy. The scrutiny, the pressure, the constant demands on your time and energy - it's going to be a lot. But if anyone can handle it, it's Steve. And from what I've heard about you, I think you're up for the challenge, too."

Sam pauses as the waitress returns with your breakfasts and his coffee. Once she's gone, he continues, "Steve doesn't do anything halfway. When he commits to something, he's all in. And he's committed to this - to you, to this campaign, to trying to make a real difference."

You nod, appreciating his honesty. "And what about... us? Steve and me, I mean. Do you think we can make this work? Not just for the campaign, but as a real partnership?"

Sam's eyes soften. "Steve's one of the best men I know. He's loyal, compassionate, and has a moral compass that doesn't quit. But he's also been through a lot, and he can be... guarded. It might take some time for him to open up fully."

You absorb this information, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity about your future husband. "I appreciate your honesty, Sam," you say softly. "I guess we'll both be navigating uncharted waters."

Sam nods, taking a sip of his coffee before responding. "True, but you won't be doing it alone. Not only do you have the support of the team, but I think you and Steve might surprise yourselves. You both have a strong sense of purpose, a desire to help others. That's a solid foundation to build on."

You pick at your breakfast, mulling over Sam's words. "I just hope we can find some common ground beyond the campaign," you admit.

Sam leans in, his expression earnest. "Like I said, when Steve commits to something, he gives it his all. That includes relationships. He may be reserved at first, but once he lets you in, you'll have his unwavering loyalty and support."

You nod, feeling a bit more reassured. "I appreciate that. I’m not some hopeless romantic, I’m not looking to be swept off my feet, but I just hope we can find some chemistry, some spark beyond just being political partners."

Sam chuckles. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that. Steve might be from the 1940s, but he's still a red-blooded man. And you," he gestures at you with his fork, "are definitely his type."

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. "His type?"

"Smart, independent, passionate about making a difference," Sam lists off. “

Your work in non-profits, your passion for social justice - that's right up Steve's alley. Plus, you've got that whole 'take no crap' vibe that he needs. I have a sense about these things, and you have it.”

You laugh, feeling some of the tension dissipate. "Well, I'll take your word for it. Though I have to admit, the idea of being Steve Rogers' 'type' is a bit surreal."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

Sam shakes his head, still smiling. "Nah, I'll let you discover that for yourself. Where's the fun if I spoil all the surprises?"

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. "Fine, keep your secrets. But seriously, Sam, thank you. For breakfast, for the pep talk, for everything. I'm really glad I got to meet you before tomorrow."

"Me too," Sam says, raising his coffee mug in a mock toast. "To new beginnings and unexpected partnerships."

You clink your own mug against his, feeling a surge of warmth and camaraderie. As you finish your breakfast, the conversation flows easily between you and Sam. He regales you with stories of his adventures with Steve, carefully omitting any classified details but painting a vivid picture of the man you're about to marry.

As Sam talks, you find yourself leaning in, captivated by these glimpses of reality, getting to know more about the man behind the myth. And even if the next twenty-four hours will be a whirlwind of you choosing and getting fitted for your wedding dress; interviewing candidates that have been vetted for your personal staff - assistant, pr strategist, stylist, initiative director; and a bachelorette party; you feel like you’ll be able to face it all with the bit of reassurance you’ve gained by spending this time with Sam.

next part: LAS VEGAS & CLEVELAND

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

This story will have 3-4 chapters, depending on where I split up the narrative. I anticipate about a chapter a week, usually posted on Fridays.

#steve rogers x reader #stella reads #stella recs writers #stella recommends #series rec

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thebroccolination · 5 hours ago

Note

Hi Key, your post is the second I've seen that hinted at Joss but without further explanation. He generally has a positive public perception and I only know him from 3WBF (which I liked), so I'm curious where this shift in perception is coming from recently.

Would you mind making a post or directing me to where I can learn more about his general...situation.

I apologize if this is intrusive since I know you don't like to engage in Fandom Drama and like to keep your space positive, but I don't have XTwitter and his Tumblr tag is usually quite dead.

Thank you in advance!

Why I Don't Fuck with Joss: An Extremely Academic Essay of Words and Screenshots

Hi Anon!

I normally would have DM'd you an answer to this, but since you sent the ask anonymously and you were very kind in how you asked, I didn't want to ignore you.

However, two things:

I do generally make it a policy to keep my negative personal thoughts about certain actors to private conversations or, y'know, Discord servers, just to keep it off public platforms where toxicity is already rampant. In this case, though, I think the situation is interesting enough to comment on. (Plus, y'know, I'm amazed he was even managing a comeback when he's been known to Be Like This for years.)

I didn't get a lot of primary sources for this post because quite frankly I don't like Joss and I don't want to look at his face any more than I already have. However, friends who've been following this more closely than I have were able to verify that there are sources out there for everything I'm going to mention. Just, y'know, don't use me or this post as a source. This isn't one of my Citations Included Posts, this is just a Why I Don't Fuck with This Guy Post.

So, for context, I made this post last month, and someone made a more explicitly worded reblog here that's honestly better if you're going in without any context.

Essentially, Joss has had a dodgy reputation for years, but I think because fan turnover is high in interfandom and he's never been in a BL series before, most interfans just know Joss as A Tall Man Who Likes Sportsball.

But when I got into Thai BL back in 2020, Joss was one of the first actors I heard of as ~Problematique~ so I looked into him, and what I learned made me go, "Ew," so I just keenly ignored him from then on. (General gross stuff like the Domundi boob-grabbing prank and some assorted Dudebro comments about women. I don't remember specifics anymore because he was barely on my radar, but a friend at the time who'd been in fandom longer basically told me, "Yeah, that's Joss, lol.")

Interestingly, before JossGawin became a thing, most interfans were rooting for JossLuke, but I think given how vocally left-leaning Luke has proven to be, I wouldn't be surprised if Luke saw the prospect of tying his public reputation to Joss and went, "lol no goddamn thank you."

Gawin, on the other hand, seems to be down for whatever GMMTV wants him to do, so he probably just sees Joss as a colleague he makes out with (acting is a weird job). He went to high school in western Pennsylvania, he has white relatives on his dad's side, and he hangs out with the Gym Dudes of GMMTV, so I'm sure he's completely desensitized and is one of those guys who thinks, "Nah," but doesn't go so far as to say, "Not cool, dude." The Gawin Caskey Method seems to be: throw a basketball, make out with a dude on camera, go home and eat an edible. Dismount.

Unfortunately, even though Gawin's never really made any political statements or taken any major stand for the queer community, he's gained goodwill that some people are now calling into question because of Joss.

Anyway, apparently Joss used to follow Andrew Tate on Twitter until Tate was suspended, so it seems a lot of people assumed Joss unfollowed Tate, but yeah, between the sexist comments, Boobgate, and admiring Joe Rogan, that was enough for me to physically recoil from the screen when I saw the teaser for MGB.

Okay NOW, everything from this point onward is new stuff I've learned over the past month that made me go, "Oh. So he's worse now."

Joss has apparently had that Joe Rogan quote pinned to his Twitter account since 2020, but people just shrugged it off because they like his man stomach or something? (I don't find him attractive, but even if I did, I truly don't understand how he made it this far. It feels like he's been pretty firmly canceled every year since I got here, honestly.)

I also didn't like him weight-shaming Gawin. There's some older clip of him calling Gawin fat, and I know in Asia it's more common to comment on other people's bodies and weight, but I also recently found out that he got Gawin a meat cake for his birthday because idk actual cake is for pussies? (Sorry, Anon, I was trying to aim for an objective tone but I abandoned it because I reeeally don't like this man.) And apparently a lot of JG fanservice is just Joss and Gawin at the gym so Joss can teach Gawin self-control or something? I've had their tag blocked from the beginning, so you'll have to look into that if you're curious.

Ah, and at some point in the last few months, Joss was apparently asked what his "type" is and he said something like "white, skinny English-speaking Europeans/Americans"(?) Which apparently made Asian women go, "Hey, c'mere real quick: good. Bye."

I also thought it was a huge red flag that Joss has been in the industry for years, and his domestic fanbase is still quite small. Others have pointed out that very few fan interactions with him are in Thai, and he's clearly courting a western audience both in his individual engagement and by partnering with a mixed American actor. When he did the LGBTQ+ panel last summer, apparently the reaction from Thai commenters was, "lmao why Joss?" not, "Oh yes, of course, Joss!"

So it seems like GMMTV has been trying to do a rebrand for Joss using Gawin and interfans more generally since Joss speaks English and interfans don't generally seek out the resources to do research. Remember last year when GMMTV announced that Y-MIND script competition? It was originally domestic only, but after Thai fans overwhelmingly went, "The contract terms here are wildly exploitative, so fuck off," GMMTV rereleased the promotional material in English and went, "HEY INTERFANS WANNA SEND US STUFF :D?"

That told me they really don't think especially highly of us.

On December 15th, someone pointed out that Joss didn't just follow Trump on Twitter, he also followed a ton of extreme alt-right accounts on Instagram. Not normal political figures, either. Obscure figures like Pearl, Candace Owens, that guy who was saying Your Body My Choice, and Andrew Tate's right-hand man, and more! Some of his fans tried to point out that he follows progressive Thai politicians, but as far as the American side, he only followed alt-right conservative accounts with zero liberal accounts.

Though, in fairness, someone did point out that Joss also follows famous progressive Democratic figures [checks notes] comedian Chris Rock and basketball player Stephen Curry.

So. Whoohoo for that, amirite?

Since Joss's fans weren't having much success defending him on their own, they threw some @'s at his account to get him to make some kind of statement that would somehow explain away why he was following a deep, deep alt-right fanatic like Pearl. (Spoiler: He didn't.)

The JossGawin International fan club even released the above statement to address the issue, then received such alarmingly vitriolic backlash from the JossGawin fandom for "betraying" Joss that the fanclub decided to deactivate entirely. (I have no idea if they reactivated or not, since I stopped keeping up with this whole debacle shortly afterward.)

One Thai(?) JossGawin fan actually seems to have used ChatGPT to create an English comment to chastise the fanclub for their lack of support in Joss's dire times:

Amusingly, rather than address his fans' concerns or unfollow any of the accounts causing the chaos, Joss instead just started deleting any comment on his Instagram that called on him to comment.

Five days later, he unfollowed 137 accounts. No idea how many of those were alt-right extremists and how many were just extra padding to make it look like a general cleanse, but it was at least fifty last I heard, and the fact that 1) it took him nearly a week to do anything but delete the comments calling him out, and 2) his first tweet after this whole mess was a quote-retweet of GMMTV's message welcoming Barcode into the company saying, "lol this kid looks like if me and Gawin had a baby" just goes to show how unthreatened he feels.

After all, Joss has been this way for years, and his upcoming series with Gawin is probably going to do numbers regardless. He's successfully rebuilt his stagnant career off the support of interfans, and he knows he'll be fine.

Even Foei has a show with Tay! We're all good here. \:D/

So yeah! That's why I don't fuck with Joss. \:D/

This'll be the last I say on Joss publicly.

I just figured I'd make one all-encompassing post so I can link back to this in case anyone asks why I'm not supporting any of Gawin's projects with Joss. It's a shame because I do really like Gawin, but this isn't even a hard choice for me to make.

Oh, and while we're on the subject: the director of MGB, Ark, is also Not a Good Dude by all accounts I've heard from multiple people who've interacted with him privately. I mean, he sure is queer, but he's also said to be a misogynist with some white-people-worshipping tendencies. He doesn't have the highest opinion of BL fandom in general, either, especially when you look back on his whole direction of IT'S NOT A BL Shadow. Just, y'know, another reminder that queer people aren't Virtuous or Evil by nature. We're a big ole clusterfuck of nuance, so you don't have to support MGB for Ark just because he's a queer man. I have zero proof that I can share publicly, so you don't have to take my word for it. Just, y'know, in case you were on the fence, I've heard he's a dick.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go write absolutely filthy gay porn to purify myself from writing Joss's name so many times.

#joss wayar #kiranokira answers

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live-laugh-lenney · 19 hours ago

Text

LOCKED IN | ARTHUR FREDERICK

a whole year and it's finally with you! thank you for all your patience and all your lovely messages and comments about this new chaptered fic; i'm so incredibly excited (and incredibly nervous) to share it with you and show you the project i've been working on these last twelve months. i wanted it to be absolutely perfect before you got your hands on it. feedback is always welcomed and my inbox is always open so please, please, please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts on the story. enjoy! <33

- C H A P T E R O N E -

“I’m actually terrified.”

The black car, donned with the FootAsylum logo that had been printed on the back passenger doors, rolled up the gravel driveway and stopped before a modern-looking home hidden deep in the countryside of a place she could tell was hours from home. With her phone being taken away and with nothing to keep her occupied, except picking at her nails nervously or chewing on the inside of her mouth, she couldn’t keep track of the hours she’d been sat in the car… but given the numb bum and the sickly feeling from the rumble of the car and having nothing to eat due to her nerves, she would have guessed her travel time had been, at least, two hours. Studio lights littered around to keep the grounds lit so everyone knew where they were going, the house being illuminated and almost in a spotlight to give it a real studio vibe, and it had finally set in her mind rather quickly that this was her reality for the next two weeks. The nerves that she tried to hide, swallowing back every lump in her throat and ignoring every bad thought that crossed her mind, were slowly coming back to haunt her and her knees couldn’t stop bouncing in the footwell in the back seat.

“This is terrifying.”

Once the car came to a stop at the end of the driveway, she took a moment to herself.

The driver sat in the front, plugging in a destination into his built-in sat-nav that would either be taking him home or back to a building where the producers and the directors of the show were all huddled inside, yet she couldn’t bring herself to be nosey. And as her hand came to clasp around the handle of the backdoor, she could see her hand shuddering with uncertainty. There was no chance she was backing out of this opportunity now; it was the first day and she wanted to prove to people she could do this. That she was worthy of a place in the house. Having been on the Youtube scene for just over 12 months, she never thought her first year would end in her being part of a reality show centred around those with huge followings and a name for themselves and she wanted to show how serious she was about taking any given opportunity in her grasp and enjoying every moment life had to offer her.

Once she saw who she was going to be locked into a home with for two weeks, she did some digging on just who they were, putting a face to a name and googling them in hopes to find their social media accounts. Gaining the basic information and following their Instagrams and subscribing to their Youtube channels so she could scope out everyone as to not seem so clueless once she walked into the house.

So she knew of a few of them.

It was nerve-wrackingly brand-new for her and it was something she never imagined herself doing when she posted her very first Youtube video just a short twelve months ago; being pushed into a house with nine other Youtubers who were practically strangers to her and, in that moment and before she met then, it was something she considered to be almost as bad as a worst nightmare.

The gravel rocks and the tiny stones of the pathway crunched beneath her trainers as she neared where she assumed the front door to the house was. Her eyes scanned across the wooden panelling of the front and she truly felt like an idiot, even more so because of the cameras hidden in every nook and cranny around her that would pick up her dumbfounded moments, as she tried to find a door handle or a doorbell that would somehow get her into the warmth of the house. The black bag on her shoulder which she, and the entire cast of the second season, had been asked to advertise as they walked up the entrance, kept slipping down to her elbow and eventually she gave up adjusting it and just let it swing to and fro as she questioned everything happening before her.

“How the hell do I get in? Is this a challenge or something? I feel like I’m being punked here.”

There was a gentle change in the way the wall was built and she pushed a panel to make the front door more noticeable, revealing the entrance hallway of the place that was going to be her new home for the next fortnight. Light strips coloured with neon green lighting her way, stuck to the walls and almost guided her in the right direction of where everyone else seemed to have congregated, fitting the whole aesthetic and colour theme of how the show was advertised and promoted on the outside world. Lots of monochrome, blacks and whites, with a burst of colour that surrounded her. The heat of the inside immediately hit her as she stepped foot into the hallway and let the door close behind her with a whoosh, shutting by itself once it hit the frame of the doorway. The lights were bright, as opposed to the scenery of the sun setting upon her arrival, and she could hear the chaos of everyone already enjoying themselves and introducing themselves further to each other - and she secretly prayed that she wasn’t the last one to enter the house.

She took the chance to have a quiet glance around at where she was before she made her way into the centre of the house, cautious as she looked around to make sure no one was hiding and ready to jump out and make her jump, because that was the one thing she absolutely hated and she definitely would have held a grudge, mentally planning the next move in an unproposed prank war between herself and the housemates.

“There’s someone coming.”

“Guys, someone’s here!”

“Someone new!”

“Finally!”

“That makes ten of us. I reckon that’s all of us here.”

YN stood still on the spot, taking in the deepest intake of breath to prepare herself before she exhaled slowly through puckered lips, trying to rid herself of the nerves that were sitting low in her stomach and making her feel sick, to keep her heart from racing and thumping rapidly in her chest.

When she was first asked to be one of the housemates for that year, she thought it looked fun and she was always up for trying new things and stepping out of her comfort zone. She was the biggest advocate for telling people, through her Youtube videos, that they should try out new things because they’ll never know how they feel unless they gave it a go. She shook her limbs to rid the nerves making her shake and she rolled her neck, giving herself the quickest pep-talk in her mind, and she took the last few steps from the room she was standing in and into, what she could only guess was, their kitchen and dining area together.

“Hi!”

“Oh my god, hi!”

“Hello!”

She was overwhelmed with the greetings, dropping her plastic FootAsylum bag to the floor and feeling the warm embrace of someone instantly wrapping their arms around her, a sweet and floral smell of someone’s perfume filling her nose as she reciprocated the hug, long hair tickling at her nose. Her eyes darted from face to face, slightly overwhelmed yet the feeling had slowly felt less suffocating and she took the chance to bolden her demeanour. The males taking their time to come forward and introduce themselves yet the females wasted no time in wanting to get to know her, patiently waiting for their time to bring her into a hug and find out more about her.

“I’m Anastasia,” the girl introduced herself and YN introduced herself in response, and she gave YN one final squeeze before pulling away, stepping aside for someone else to take her place. YN had seen Anastasia on her Youtube recommendations, at a time when she started gaining inspiration on how she wanted to run her channel and a long while back when it was just a mere thought, and it was nice to be given the chance to meet her on a more personal level than just what she showed for the cameras and for her vlogs. “It’s so good to finally meet you!”

A short queue-like crowd of eight other people had formed around her and the nerves that had been sitting in her belly had almost disappeared once she realised they were all in the same boat - no one really knew anyone in this place, they were all there to get to know one another and they were all there to fight for the winning place. They were all there for the same reasons, all going through the same thing, feeling the same feelings and experiencing the experience together so it made everything feel much less intimidating.

She hugged everyone around her, introducing herself as they introduced themselves, and they seemed like a truly good bunch of people to spend the next fourteen days with and she was excited to form special friendships with the whole lot of them.

One guy hung behind from the introductions, waiting incredibly patiently, dressed in all black with the sleeves of his hoodie hiding his hands as his fingers played with the hem in a nervous manner. Brown hair upon his head, tousled and messy, and the most engaging brown eyes that didn’t seem to leave her face as he drank in everything about her. Every inch of his face was beautiful looking, sculpted perfectly, with the curve of the tip of his nose looking soft and the stretch of skin across his cheeks looking rosy and pink. She felt a connection to him, she felt easy around him without even knowing his name, and it was a feeling she couldn’t get rid of as if there was something that intrigued her about him that she was desperate to figure out.

“I’m Arthur. ArthurTV,” he grinned, almost hesitating as he went in to give her a hug, but barely resisting when she wrapped her arms around his neck and initiated the greeting between the two of them, forearms resting on his shoulders as her hands joined at the back of his neck, “it’s so lovely to meet you.”

“I’m YN,” she smiled softly to herself, reading off her Youtube name in a similar fashion to how he had introduced himself and he snickered softly as she pulled away from him and broadened the gap between their two bodies, “it’s lovely to meet you, too, Arthur.”

“Did you struggle as much as me to find the entrance to this place? Because I must have looked like a massive tit to the cameras when I walked straight past the entrance and round the corner in hopes I’d find a backdoor or something,” he admitted, a laugh following in suit as she giggled and shook her head, “honestly, I just hope everyone else did the same.”

“It took me ages to find the door. I didn’t walk past it but I just stood there, staring at it, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Thought that if I stared long enough, I’d see into a void and it would just appear,” she admitted and shook her head at how silly she was going to look in the eyes of those watching when it went live over on Youtube, “we can both look like tits together, I guess. Great first impressions to the public and all.”

“I do say that we make quite the perfect pair,” he joked, internally wanting to crawl into a hole and disappear at how corny he must have sounded, except she laughed at his attempt at humour and he swore he felt butterflies in his belly, “come and get to know everyone properly. We think you were the last person to join us now there’s ten of us standing here.”

So she was the last.

She knew it.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦ ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

It was Spuddz’s idea.

“Hot Seat! Let’s do Hot Seat.”

And YN couldn’t lie, the volume at which he suggested it had woken her up a little from her daze.

Her eyelids felt really heavy and her eyes were stinging, almost screaming at her to give in to the temptation of snoozing and go to nap, and that was probably due to the lack of sleep she’d gotten the night before her arrival into the house. Because all night, all she could think about was the worst of what was about to happen. In a situation unknown to her, with people she didn’t know well enough, all she could think about was how she’d be an outcast compared to everyone else.

She didn’t want to be the first one to announce her departure from the room, disappearing and missing out on the rest of the evening, just because she needed an hour's shuteye to feel a little more refreshed. But the warmth between the arm of the sofa and having Arthur seated beside her was enough to lull her into a state of complete peace and relaxation, almost completely at ease with everyone, listening to everything that was happening around her and chiming in with her own questions whenever she was prompted with something when they spoke about something that piqued her interest in the matter.

Arthur had been her saviour in the first few hours of being in the Locked In house.

She hadn’t been glued to his hip for the entirety of the evening… although she thought she had been. Since their first hello’s were shared just a few hours prior, she felt magnetised towards him. She wasn’t sure what it was about him but she felt like she could be herself around him… maybe it was because he had taken time to greet her and introduce himself, maybe it was because they had common traits that made them feel comfortable with each other, maybe it was because she found him attractive and wanted to get to know him more. She couldn’t put her finger on anything definite but he made her feel a sense of confidence within herself. Like she could do anything that FootAsylum threw at her.

She had taken time to pop over to the girls of the house and have a chat with them so she could understand who they were and what their personalities were like. And she had been indulged in a joke war with SomeJokeman when he broke their awkward silence by cracking out a ‘Knock Knock’ joke for her to answer. But she always found herself always gravitating back towards the brown-haired, brown-eyed man who kept himself to himself and let others involve him rather than forcing himself in conversations happening around him. He was the one who had shown her around the house, the one who let her know what bed was free and who had claimed certain spots to be theirs and he was the one who let her take in the surroundings on her own accord.

The late afternoon hours had passed by, although they had no idea on what the time was, and it felt like they’d known each other for longer than a mere few hours. Where everyone was bouncing off questions and getting to know one another in a setting that was getting quite loud and confusing, the suggestion of getting to know one another at the pace of one at a time was something they could all agree upon.

“We’re gonna put Jamie in the hot seat first,” Spuddz informed, letting the lad stand up from his place on the sofa and in front of everyone, “please, young man, state your name for the audience.”

“My name’s Jamie, otherwise known as LDN Movements,” he started off, clapping his hands and clasping them together in front of him in a nervous way, “is this how we do this? You ask me questions and I just answer them?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Spuddz nodded, “like an interrogation.”

And it began from there.

Question after question came out, and she couldn’t fault him and everyone else with how they dealt with the quickfire questions being thrown at them from all areas of the lounge room. Answering with detail and speaking with gusto and enthusiasm as they all took the chance to get to know one another; finding out what they were like as a person, what their Youtube careers was based upon, what they did when they weren’t filming and what their hobbies and passions in life were.

“YN! Our last little newcomer,” Steph grinned at her from the sofa on the right, wiggling her fingers in an attempt to get her to stand to her feet and take her place before everyone, “it’s your turn, darling.”

She sighed in feigned dramatics, rolling her head back against the sofa before smirking and standing to her feet, much to Arthur’s dismay as he felt the cold air take over where her warmth had once been.

“I’m YN, as you already know,” she smiled, drawing out a long curtsey before everyone, “I don’t really do very much, to be honest. I started out on Instagram, gained myself a good following of young people who were interested in reviews of different daily products and skincare routines and such, and I went from there. I’m a lifestyle Youtuber, I guess. Moved my content into a much longer form instead of small Instagram videos and stories.”

“What is a ‘lifestyle Youtuber’?” Johnny asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on the palms of his hands, “I’ve never really heard of that.”

“I basically just vlog about my life? I don’t know how to explain it,” she felt her cheeks getting hot under Johnny’s gaze and she stared at the floor beneath the lightened oak coffee table in the centre of the room, “I film bits of my day, what I do, I never understand why people enjoy watching videos about my life but… they got me here. Which, of course, I’m so thankful for. So many opportunities have come my way since then and it’s all because of them.”

When she posted her first video, a ‘get to know me’ post that consisted of a compilation of frequently asked questions from her Instagram page that people wanted to know about her, she had no idea that she would be where she is now. A video where she opened up and shared more about herself and her personal life - from the quick and easy questions about her relationship status and her family life and where she grew up and what she studied in school to what she wants out of life and where she sees herself in five years time and what she thinks is the biggest issue in the world as we know it - had gotten her onto a pedestaled platform where, for the year, she had been able to share her tips and her tricks in how to get by in certain scenarios.

She vlogged her daily life, from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she laid her head down on her pillow at night, and people loved to see what she got up to. Her friends became constant guests in her videos, partaking in small challenges and Q and A’s that were topical to whoever she had on screen, and her fans loved to see her in her social group where she let her true enjoyment and her true self be seen.

She loved what she did.

She was lucky to be where she was.

She had a supportive following who loved her, supported her, made sure to help boost her name into the general public and she repaid them back by giving them back the amount of love that they gave to her.

And she wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

“Here, here,” Jamie cheered, “very lucky to have people watch us and support whatever we choose to do.”

“I don’t think any of us would be here,” YN pointed to the exact spot she was standing in with both of her pointer fingers, “without our subscribers and our followers. I thank my lucky stars every single day that I am where I am.”

Steph cooed softly at the words YN let slip off her tongue and she suddenly felt very open and vulnerable.

“Do you just post videos about a day in your life? Do you do challenge videos or react videos or anything like that?” Arthur asked, also following in suit of Johnny and leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees and cupping his own face with his palms and as similarly as they were sat, she could look into Arthur’s eyes and speak to him, “do you just do reviews or?”

“I just do reviews, yeah. I don’t really focus much on the internet world and celebrities but more the real world and I just have a chat with the camera as if I was talking to my followers personally. I talk about topics people are chatting about all the time, what people comment about, and what’s trending. Whenever I get asked to do advertisements and such, I review different make-up products, skin care products, I show off my bedtime routine and my make-up routine and what products I use for skincare. I get sent clothes from various brands and do mini hauls, in the summer and the winter, on what I like and what suits me and what I would wear for specific occasions,” she grinned softly, “I should get you guys on. I think I could definitely use Arthur as a dummy to test out different make-up looks.”

Arthur blushed and shook his head, cackling softly, “I think you’re the more beautiful one out of us. You don’t need me to ruin it.”

“Arthur has rizz, you know!” Jokeman bellowed from beside him, clapping him on the shoulder as he blushed in his seat, “this is like a dating show, I’m telling you. Watch this space! Locked In is the new Love Island.”

There’s a chime that brings the conversation to a halt, saving Arthur from any more embarrassment from what the others had to tease him about, with the screen lighting up on the wall with an announcement, in the form of a tweet from Twitter, appearing on the screen.

From the moment she arrived, YN had been craving a bed.

As soon as her head hit the plush cushion at the height of the bed, her slippers having been kicked off at the side and her pillows plumped up so she could sleep a little more upright, she could feel her eyes getting heavier and heavier as she got more and more comfortable. Watching as everyone else readied themselves for bed, with make-up free faces and blankets wrapped around their shoulders, dressed in the comfiest of clothing as they went about their nightly routine. Teeth being brushed, faces being washed, clambering into bed before the lights went out.

To one side of her, she had Anastasia.

To the other side, she had Arthur.

A grin on his lips as he made eye contact with her from beneath the duvet that was pulled up to his chest, hair tousled and his fringe sticking to his slightly damp forehead from where he’d washed his face, cheeks red from where he had scrubbed his skin with a cleansing wash. Her cheeks flushing red once she realised he was looking at her and she giggled softly and shook her head at him, pulling her own duvet to her chin and nestling a little further down on the mattress.

“It was good meeting you, YN.”

“You say that like we’re gonna be apart forever after we close our eyes. Like we’re just gonna die and never wake up,” she snorted, rolling onto her side to face him better, “sucks for you that you’re gonna be stuck with me in here for the next two weeks.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad to me,” he hummed, closing his eyes and pretending to fall asleep, leaving her in a slight state of shock as she took in what he had said so nonchalantly.

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freezebobs · 16 hours ago

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DBFZ Yamcha and Ten cookies...done!!!

Soo I've been on a mission to recreate the Yamcha and Ten cookies from dragon ball fighterz because they're adorable...and they're finally real!! :'D process and info below! (kind of long lol)

I saw someone share these screencaps from the game a while ago and as someone who never played DBFZ I was so charmed at how cute these things are. I wondered if anyone had ever made cookie cutters for them, did a quick search and didn't really find anything, so just kind of moved on.

A few months later I remembered them again and was like, man, I really would love to see these brought to life lol. And I searched again and actually found someone who made them!!... But they weren't selling them anymore. 😭💔

^Reddit post from user ShadowLord898.

So in the next few days I went into the DBFZ game files, figured out how to navigate them and locate/open the proprietary file types (took...a lot of googling), and eventually found the cookie textures!!! Which I then painstakingly traced over to create vectors.

I thought once I had the vectors, it would be easy to drop them into a 3D program and extrude them to make the cookie cutters. BOY WAS I WRONG!!! It's probably just my inexperience working with vectors in 3D programs, but I tried Blender, Fusion 360, and Tinkercad and had problems in each one before finally figuring out the right approach. (I really almost gave up 🤧 but I hadn't realized that your geometry/topology don't need to be perfect when 3D modeling for print as opposed to, like, something you plan to create a texture for.)

Tinkercad and its extremely user friendly interface, plus SVG import functionality, saved me.

Oh then I realized I forgot to reverse the design, which you have to do for a cookie cutter because of how they work. I thought I would need to flip all the vectors and re-import them, recreate the models... but thankfully there's a "flip" button in Tinkercad. Fixed.

I sent the files over to my friend @.theprocrastinatingengineer on Instagram, who has a 3D printing service, and he was able to print them out for me!

While I was waiting for them to ship I downloaded Cura ("slicer" program for preparing 3D files for print) just for fun. (I was really eager...)

And here's when I finally got them!!!

Despite choosing all the dimensions carefully, I was still surprised how dainty they were when I actually held them in my hand. I wasn't sure if they would work...

So I made the dough and everything, used some 5mm thick chopsticks as guides to roll out the dough to the thickness I wanted. I put plastic wrap over the dough to prevent the cutters from directly touching the dough due to food safety concerns. Here is my first attempt to use them:

After this my mindset quickly shifted from caring about food safety to "what's a little more plastic in my system?" / "I'm here for a good time, not a long time!!" / "welll the dough gets baked anyway so that kills the germs it should be fiiine" **I Do Not recommend others to be so careless... also important note: I was the only one eating these so I didn't have to worry about others' safety 🥴

^The difference between using the cutters with and without the plastic wrap.

This first rolling out of the dough was actually a little too thick; in my design I hadn't accounted for the way the dough squishes up when you press the cutter into it. There wasn't enough vertical space at all, and the dough kept getting stuck in the cutter. It was a bad time!!! (didn't get a lot of photos of the failures here because my hands were covered in flour)

After lots of broken cookie cutouts, re-flouring the surface/cutters/rolling pin, and re-rolling the dough to be a bit thinner, I managed to get these out. I had to support Ten's head like a newborn when moving the dough onto the cookie sheet because the connection to the body was so delicate 😢

AND HERE THEY ARE...fully baked and ready 🥹

For the most part I was going to leave them undecorated like how they are in the game. But @.lamichicuenta made this really cute drawing of the cookies where Yamcha had chocolate decorations and Ten was a salty cracker, and I really wanted to try decorating some to resemble those!! Here are the photos of both versions of the cookies the next day once I was able to get some natural light for nicer pics.

(I meant to poke some holes in Ten's cookie to look more like a cracker but I forgot about it until they were already baking.)

They tasted fine...yamcha was better thanks to the chocolate. 🤭

If you read all this, thank you for following my cookie cutter journey... 😌🙏💖

Oh yeah and I made the vectors, 3D print files, and specs/info all available in a google drive folder here for anyone to use if they want! https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1hQ7uq3leYPK64pGgt3LhFw-70IZnkYzh?usp=drive_link

OH and one last thing, i ended up revising the 3D models to hopefully fix the issue of not enough vertical space. ...turns out I hit the maximum for photos and videos in this post, but you can see it on my twitter here! https://twitter.com/freezebobs/status/1875720926840680678

I didn't get to try these revised models, but they are the ones I put in the drive folder. 😊👍

#dragon ball #dbz #dragon ball z #dragon ball fighterz #dbfz #tenshinhan #yamcha #tien shinhan #tien #yamtien #tiencha #food #cookies #3d printing #I spent a long time writing and adding all the pictures and captions so if tumblr fudges up this post i will be very sad #I realized I forgot to mention a couple things like the cookie cutter design tutorial I was following #And the way I actually created the models #When making the vectors #Make the outline its own path. And the inner/embossed details separate from it #Export the outline and the inner details as separate svg files #Import them separately into 3d program so you can extrude them to different heights for cutting/embossing #It doesn't matter if they overlap a bit. Tinkercad doesn't mind and once you join everything you still get a fine STL export for print☺️#As for the tutorial I used. The main takeaways were that I kept the 3d printer nozzle width in mind when choosing dimensions #Friend with the 3d printer said that you don't really need to do that though #Also the “bridges” or the little cross that connects the parts that float/aren't connected to the rest of the design (eg eyes and mouth)#I followed many random tutorials and things throughout this whole process #Can you tell i luv to document... (sincere)

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mcrdvcks · 21 hours ago

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okay, so when i first saw this posted i couldn't wait to read it... but it was like the week before thanksgiving and i had two midterms and even more assignments due so i put it off. but now, i've finally had time to read this and it was well worth the wait!

so, here we go, it's gonna be a bit long so just work with me (this is my version of highlighting on my kindle)

“Doesn’t look like she wants to talk,” Logan replied, glancing at the door. His fists clenched instinctively. The thought of this guy forcing his way in, disturbing her, made his blood boil. “So maybe you should take the hint and get lost.”

i don't care if this trope is 'overdone' because it's gets me all giggly when a character is protective over someone, especially when they're so strong about consent. (no means no dude!)

The guy didn’t budge, his face twisting with frustration. “You’re being unreasonable. This is all because of that stupid job, isn’t it? You think you’re too good for me now, huh?”

i could be reading into this, but could she be the journalist? (i read too many mystery books as a child.) i'm writing notes as i read so i'm not sure yet

She took a breath, exhaling slowly as she glanced away, her jaw clenched. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Guys like you think you’re doing me a favor, stepping in, trying to… ‘protect’ me. But all you’re doing is making me feel like I can’t handle my own life. Like I’m weak. And I’m not.”

this hit hard, because while i would like to believe if a man like logan had taken to protect me, in real life i'd probably be more like this. i love how reader, though shy, stands up for herself!

“Oh,” she said quietly, a forced, brittle smile tugging at her lips. “So… what? I only look beautiful when I’m dressed up? When I’m… like this?”

a-are you in my room? in my head?? please get out because this is absolutely something i would feel (and have felt before). it does hurt when the only time someone makes a nice comment is when your dolled up and not when you feel most like you.

Logan could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, the urge to step outside and tell this guy to back off building with each word. But he held himself in check, forcing himself to stay silent, to let her handle it. She didn’t need him barging in like some kind of white knight, as much as he wanted to.

the fact that logan actually listened to what she said and followed through, letting her handle it? that's a real man.

Sanctuary - Part One

Logan and Wade are sent by Stryker to find a journalist who has been digging around trying to expose Team X. Logan isn't prepared when he meets an intriguing neighbor causing him to question himself and the mission.

origins logan howlett x fem!reader - team x mission, shy reader, no y/n, she/her pronouns used instead of you, logan's pov, origins wade, awkwardness, guarded feelings, angst, AU, crushes, logan kinda being a stalker, stryker and victor cameos, fighting, cussing, wade being a good friend, reserved logan

a/n: Okay buckle up because this is a long author’s note but when do i not make an essay? I’m an origins girlie and will find any excuse to write about origins logan (it was the first fic i wrote) so here we are with another one. Idk if this makes sense—maybe it’s an AU where logan just works with team x but somehow doesn’t go through the weapon x program idk, okay. It started as a one shot of shy reader (the club scene) then ended up becoming the longest thing i have ever written for logan. I’ve been working on it for the past 2…maybe 3 weeks and yeah…finally posting it after editing it. I was gonna make it a sad, angsty ending but i can’t do it, i just can’t. Logan deserves happy endings. P.s. it’s from logan’s POV that’s why it’s she/her pronouns instead of you. I’m used to writing in third person (creative writing major here) but for fics i usually do second person but here i just wanted to do something different. So sue me.

apparently this is too long to post in one go so here's part one and here's part two

word count: 40k

divider credit: @enchanthings

Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the endless stream of chatter pouring from Wade’s mouth. It was like trying to drown out the buzz of a fly that just wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Logan?” Wade’s voice cut through the humid night air like a blade.

“Wade, for the love of God, shut up,” Logan muttered, low and gruff. “I can’t hear anything if you keep flappin’ your damn jaw.”

Across the street, neon lights flickered on the facade of a rundown bar, casting fractured shadows over a row of grime-slicked windows above. The air smelled of stale beer and gasoline, tinged with a hint of rot. Logan took a deep breath, focusing, scanning for any sign of their target—the journalist who’d gotten too curious about things he had no business knowing.

Wade just rolled his eyes, unfazed by Logan’s irritation. “I was just trying to tell you…that’s our guy,” he said, nodding towards a short, nervous-looking man slipping into the front door of the apartment building above the bar. The man’s hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets, head down, moving quickly, like he wanted to be invisible.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. Something about the guy didn’t feel right. But they didn’t have much else to go on, and he didn’t have the patience to argue with Wade right now.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. He gestured for Wade to follow, and they crossed the street, dodging a couple of potholes filled with oily rainwater. The entryway smelled even worse up close like someone had left a pile of garbage to rot right inside the door.

Inside, the dim hallway was narrow and claustrophobic, with walls covered in peeling, faded wallpaper that might have once been green. Logan’s steps were silent, practiced—Wade’s, not so much. His boots thudded against the cracked linoleum as he craned his neck, looking around like a tourist on his first big-city adventure.

They found the apartment number and pushed their way in, catching the man off guard as he fumbled to pull a sandwich out of a paper bag. He dropped it with a startled yelp, hands flying up in surrender, eyes wide and terrified.

His voice came out in a high, trembling squeak. “L-look, I don’t want any trouble! I can give you money—I swear, I don’t have much, but—”

Wade cocked his head, raising a skeptical brow. “Money? Oh, sweetheart, we’re not here for money.” He let the word drip like honey, and the man flinched. Wade leaned in, studying the man like he was an insect pinned to a board. “You don’t know anything about Team X?”

The man’s face went pale, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He shook his head frantically, words spilling out in a stammered mess. “N-no, I swear—I’m just an accountant, alright? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Team…what? I’ve never even heard of it.”

Logan stood back, watching the guy’s every twitch, every dart of his eyes. Fear had a way of squeezing the truth out of people, and this guy looked like he was about to come apart at the seams. Logan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring slightly. He caught Wade’s eye and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. The poor bastard was clean—just some pencil pusher in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Wade’s grin only widened a slow, wicked curve that made Logan’s stomach sink. He recognized that look: Wade had just had one of his bright ideas.

Wade clapped the accountant on the shoulder, making the man jump. “Well, congrats, pal. You’ve just saved yourself from a world of hurt. But I gotta ask—you like it here?” He gestured around the dingy apartment, where the wallpaper was peeling into long, damp strips and the faint odor of mildew hung in the air. “Nice digs. Bet the landlord’s a gem.”

The accountant blinked, looking from Wade to Logan in bewilderment as if he was just realizing they weren’t here to kill him. “Uh…I guess? I mean, it’s not the worst place I’ve lived.”

“Perfect.” Wade snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up like a kid who’d just been handed a new toy.

Logan shot Wade a warning look. “Wade. Don’t even start.”

Wade ignored him, snapping his fingers again as if he’d just solved world hunger. “Think about it, Logan. We get a lease here. Set up a cozy little base. I’ll bring a lava lamp, we’ll order takeout, and we can scope out every last tenant till we find this guy. Like fishing, but in an apartment building.”

Logan scowled, crossing his arms. “You’re saying we go through the hassle of a rental application. Background checks. And wait.”

“Come on, think of it as blending in! Imagine us as friendly neighborhood roommates, huh?” Wade slapped him on the shoulder, a little too enthusiastically. “We can get to know the neighbors. Borrow a cup of sugar. You’ll look adorable in an apron.”

Logan let out a low growl, but he could see Wade wouldn’t let it go. They were running out of options, and if this journalist were smart, he’d be laying low. A bit of patience might be the only way to catch him off guard.

“Fine,” he muttered, the word tasting bitter. “But if you so much as mention lava lamps again, I’m throwing you out the window.”

Wade’s grin was all teeth. “Deal. Now let’s go talk to the landlord. You want to do the talking, or should I?” He turned back to the accountant, clapping him on the shoulder again. “Thanks for the inspiration, buddy. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll just let ourselves out.”

The accountant sank onto his couch, looking dazed, still clutching his sandwich like it was a life preserver. Logan followed Wade to the door, shaking his head. Somehow, he knew this stakeout was going to be the longest assignment of his life.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“Well, Stryker isn’t happy,” Wade was saying, his voice an incessant buzz in the background. “But when is that dude ever happy? I feel bad for his wife—assuming she exists. Maybe he just clones himself a girlfriend every year. Could you imagine? ‘Sorry, honey, I’ll be home late tonight, gotta send a couple of mutants to—’”

Logan ignored Wade’s rambling as he surveyed their new “home.” Calling it a dump would’ve been generous. The wallpaper was peeling, a thick layer of grime coated the windows, and the faint smell of mildew seeped out from behind the walls. They were at least lucky enough to have separate rooms, but even with a door to shut Wade out, Logan doubted he’d get much peace.

“Did he give you any more information?” Logan finally cut in, hoping Wade might actually have something useful.

Wade blinked, as if surprised that Logan was listening. “About the journalist?”

Logan clenched his teeth. “No—of course about the fucking journalist. Like what the guy might look like, or any other detail that could help us find him?”

Wade shrugged, completely unfazed by Logan’s irritation. “Nope. Stryker was being vague again. Just the usual cryptic bullshit. I swear, the dude is losing it. First, he sends us out here to find some mystery man—”

Logan rolled his eyes, tuning Wade out. They’d been here for a week now, trawling through this run-down building and questioning almost every unlucky soul who happened to live here, and they were no closer to finding their target than when they’d started. Stryker hadn’t given them much to go on, which only made Logan suspect that there was more to this mission than he was letting on.

Finally, Logan couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair and headed for the door. “I’ll be back,” he muttered over his shoulder, already halfway out.

Wade called after him. “Where are you going? Got a hot date?”

Logan didn’t dignify that with an answer. He took the stairs down two at a time, feeling a grim sense of relief as he stepped outside and let the cool night air hit him. The bar below their building wasn’t much better than the apartment—it was dim, grimy, and smelled faintly of stale beer and spilled whiskey. But at least it was quiet.

He pushed open the door and made his way inside, hoping he might get a few moments to himself, maybe even a drink strong enough to dull the ever-present headache that came with dealing with Wade.

The place was nearly empty, just a few regulars hunched over the bar and a lone woman sitting in a booth near the back. Logan’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than he meant to. She looked…out of place. Pretty, in a way that seemed wasted on a hole like this.

She was sitting alone in a corner booth, a book propped open in front of her. Her hair fell over her face as she read, strands catching in the dim light, and she seemed oblivious to the world around her. There was a quiet stillness about her, a kind of focused calm that didn’t quite fit in a bar like this. Logan found himself wondering what a woman like her was doing here, in a place that looked like it had seen one too many bar fights and smelled like it.

For a moment, he debated going over, then caught himself. Not here to make friends, he reminded himself. Still, his gaze kept drifting back to her, curiosity nagging at him. She didn’t look like the regulars in this place—she was younger, softer, with a certain self-contained reserve that drew him in despite himself.

Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe it was the exhaustion of the past week catching up to him, but before he knew it, he’d grabbed his glass and walked over to her booth.

She looked up, eyes widening slightly as he approached. Logan stopped just short of her table, suddenly aware of how rough he must look after days on the road, stubble shadowing his jaw, his clothes rumpled and worn. He cleared his throat.

“Mind if I sit?” His voice was softer than he intended, and he cursed himself for feeling the slightest bit nervous.

She hesitated, then gave a small nod, closing her book. Up close, he could see the way her eyes flicked over him, assessing but cautious. She didn’t say anything—just looked at him, as if waiting for him to explain why he’d interrupted her quiet.

“You live upstairs?” he asked, nodding toward the ceiling. He thought he might’ve seen her in the hallway when he and Wade moved in, but he hadn’t paid much attention at the time.

“Down the hall,” she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the dull hum of the jukebox. “I saw you moving in yesterday. You and…your friend.”

Logan almost chuckled at that. Wade was a lot of things, but “friend” was stretching it. “Yeah, sorry about him. He’s…a handful.”

A hint of a smile tugged at her lips, a glimmer of amusement that made him feel just a little less like a stranger in a strange place. “I noticed.”

He found himself studying her face—the slight curve of her smile, the way her fingers toyed with the edge of her book as if part of her mind was still half in whatever story she’d been reading. Something about her felt…steady. Centered. It was a quality he’d rarely seen in anyone.

“Logan,” he said, finally offering his name, though he didn’t expect her to care.

She nodded, meeting his gaze for a fraction of a second longer than he’d expected. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”

Silence settled between them, not quite uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken questions. He could sense she wasn’t the type to pry, but there was a curiosity in her eyes like she was trying to figure him out, just as he was with her.

After a beat, she lifted her book slightly, an invitation for him to leave her in peace. But instead of moving, Logan found himself asking, “What’re you reading?”

She blinked, a bit surprised, then held up the cover for him to see—a worn paperback mystery novel. The kind where the hero always catches the killer but loses something in the process.

He smirked. “Not exactly light reading for a place like this.”

She shrugged, a hint of a smile returning. “I like the quiet here…and usually nobody bothers me.”

“Well, guess I’m breaking that rule,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

She didn’t seem bothered. She just looked at him with those steady, curious eyes, and for a moment, he forgot about the mission, about the dirty apartment upstairs, about Wade’s grating voice. Here, in this booth, in this shitty bar, with a quiet woman and a book, he felt…still.

The moment shattered when he heard Wade’s voice behind him, loud and smug. “Already making friends, huh? Didn't know you had it in you, Logan.”

Logan tensed, jaw tightening as he glanced over his shoulder. Wade was leaning against the bar with that insufferable smirk, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. Logan shot him a look that could have peeled paint.

“Mind your own business, Wade,” he growled, then turned back to her, keeping his voice softer. “Thanks for letting me sit.”

She nodded, her expression as calm and unreadable as before, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes—amusement, maybe, or curiosity. It was hard to tell. She watched him as he stood, and he found himself hesitating, not quite ready to break whatever strange, quiet connection had settled between them.

Wade wasn’t about to let it linger. “Come on, Romeo,” he called, grinning as he gestured for Logan to follow. “We’ve got stuff to do, remember? Or did you forget in all the charming small talk?”

Logan clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to punch the smirk off Wade’s face. Instead, he gave her one last look—a silent apology or a promise to be less of a stranger next time. But her gaze remained steady, unreadable, as he turned to go.

As he walked past Wade, he grabbed him by the shoulder, steering him roughly toward the door. “Let’s go,” he muttered.

Wade snickered, clearly enjoying the opportunity to needle him. “Touchy, touchy. Guess you do have a heart under all that grumpiness.”

Logan ignored him, shoving Wade ahead and out the door, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was leaving something unfinished. Her image stayed in his mind—the way she’d watched him with those curious eyes, her quiet presence a balm in a week filled with noise and chaos. He didn’t know what it was about her that tugged at him, but he knew it wasn’t something he could explain, even to himself.

Once they were back on the street, Wade was still talking, filling the night air with his usual nonsensical commentary. Logan barely heard him. His mind was elsewhere, replaying that brief encounter in the dimly lit booth. He’d come down to the bar for a moment of peace, maybe a clue, maybe just a strong drink. He hadn’t expected to find…whatever that was.

But there was no time to dwell on it. They had a job to do, and he’d be damned if he let Wade screw it up.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan was screwed. Ever since that brief encounter in the bar, she’d been wedged in his mind like a splinter he couldn’t dig out. He’d catch himself lying on the worn-out couch in the apartment, tuning out Wade’s endless chatter and focusing instead on the faint sounds of her footsteps from down the hall.

She lived across the hall, exactly three doors down. He knew that much, even though he hadn’t seen her again since that night. She didn’t come or go often, and when she did, it was only for short trips—a few minutes out, then back to the quiet solitude of her apartment.

Logan found himself straining his heightened senses to catch any trace of her: the click of her door, the soft pad of her feet against the hallway carpet, even the faint murmur of her voice when she spoke on the phone. It was insane. He didn’t know the first thing about her, but somehow she’d settled under his skin.

Fuck, he thought, running a hand over his face. I’m a damn stalker.

He tried to shake it off, forcing himself to focus on the mission, but the building felt too cramped, the walls too thin, and her presence was always just out of reach. Wade, of course, noticed Logan’s distraction and was more than happy to exploit it.

“So, when are you gonna introduce me to your girlfriend?” Wade quipped one morning, sprawled across the armchair with his feet propped up on the coffee table. “Or are you just gonna keep sulking around, hoping she magically falls into your lap?”

Logan shot him a glare. “She’s not my girlfriend, Wade.”

“Oh, sure,” Wade drawled, smirking. “That’s why you’ve been lying here for the last three hours, sniffing the air like a bloodhound every time she walks past. I swear, you’re worse than a teenager.”

Logan clenched his fists, jaw tight. He’d deny it if he could, but Wade had a point, and it grated on him. He needed an excuse—a real reason to cross paths with her again, something that wouldn’t make him look like a complete creep.

Wade, apparently sensing an opportunity to meddle, sat up with a grin. “Tell you what, old man. How about you make yourself useful and take our laundry down to the laundromat? You look like you could use a walk, maybe clear your head a bit.” He tossed a balled-up shirt at Logan’s face.

Logan caught it, growling. “Since when do you do laundry?”

“Since never. But I’m feeling generous,” Wade said, smirking as he dropped a bundle of clothes into a bag and shoved it at Logan. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll run into someone interesting while you’re there. Just a thought.”

Logan snatched the bag, too annoyed to argue, and stalked out of the apartment. The morning was cool, the sky overcast, and the streets were quiet as he made his way down to the laundromat which was across the street from the apartment.

He told himself he was only doing it to get Wade off his back—but he couldn’t deny the faint flicker of anticipation at the thought of seeing her again.

The laundromat was nearly empty when he pushed open the door, the dull hum of washing machines filling the air. And there she was, sitting on a cracked plastic chair near the back, a book open on her lap, her brow furrowed in concentration. She didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in her reading, a strand of hair falling over her face as she turned a page.

Logan froze, his grip tightening around the bag of clothes. Get it together, he told himself, forcing his feet to move as he made his way to an empty machine a few steps away from her. He tossed the clothes in, doing his best to look casual, though he could feel his heart thumping harder than it should.

After a moment, he glanced her way, watching the way her eyes skimmed the words on the page, her lips moving slightly as if she were tasting each sentence. She looked…content. Lost in her own world, soft and quiet in a way that felt like the exact opposite of everything in his life right now.

He cleared his throat, searching for something to say, anything that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. “Good book?” he managed, his voice gruff, and immediately regretted it. Smooth, Logan. Real smooth.

She looked up, surprised, her gaze locking onto his. For a second, he thought she might brush him off, but then she gave a small, shy smile.

“Yeah, it’s… a mystery novel,” she said, holding up the cover. Her voice was soft, and he caught a faint trace of lavender like she’d been folding fresh laundry just before he came in. “I like to read while I’m waiting. It makes the time go faster.”

Logan nodded, his usual stoic expression softening just a little. “Seems like a good way to pass the time. This place could use the distraction.” He glanced around at the flickering fluorescent lights, the chipped tiles, the machines rattling like they were on their last legs. “Not exactly a scenic spot.”

She laughed, a quiet sound, but it lit up her face in a way that caught him off guard. “No, it’s not. But it’s peaceful, in its own way.”

They fell into a silence as she went back to her book, and Logan found himself watching her out of the corner of his eye as he sorted through the clothes, feeding them into the machine one by one. There was a calmness about her, a quiet strength, and he couldn’t help but wonder what her story was—why someone like her had chosen to live in a place like this, so close to the kind of trouble people usually ran from.

After a few minutes of silence, Logan cleared his throat, searching for something to say. “You… uh, you live alone?”

She looked up, her eyes narrowing just a fraction, a hint of suspicion flickering there. He could almost see her calculating whether or not to answer. “Do you really think I’d tell you that?” she asked, her tone mild but pointed.

Logan’s heart skipped. Shit. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like an idiot. “I didn’t—I’m not some creepy guy, I swear,” he said quickly, stumbling over his words in a way he wasn’t used to. “Just… making conversation.”

She arched an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “And you expect me to take your word for it?”

He felt heat rise to his face and shifted uncomfortably, aware of how ridiculous he must sound. This wasn’t him—Logan didn’t do small talk, especially not with someone he barely knew. But something about her had him feeling giddy, bumbling his way through a conversation he wasn’t quite prepared for.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to hold her gaze. “Look, I’m sorry. You have a point. It’s just… this neighborhood doesn’t exactly feel safe. I guess that’s why I asked.”

She sighed softly, closing her book and running her fingers along its worn spine. “Even more of a reason not to answer your questions, don’t you think?” Her tone was cool and cautious, but there was no malice there—just a quiet wariness that made him wonder what she’d been through to put up those walls.

Logan nodded, feeling a twinge of respect for her caution, even if it stung a little to be on the receiving end of it. She’s smart, he thought. Smart enough not to trust a stranger with more muscles than manners, asking personal questions in a laundromat.

An awkward silence settled between them, filled with the rhythmic hum of the machines. He glanced down at his laundry, watching the clothes tumble through the soapy water, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound stupid or intrusive. Finally, he let out a long breath.

“Look, I know I’m not exactly smooth,” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. “I just… don’t see many people like you around here.”

She tilted her head, curiosity softening her guarded expression. “People like me?”

“Yeah. People who—” He struggled to find the right words. “Who seem like they don’t belong in a place like this.” He gave her a slight, self-conscious shrug. “You look… well, like you’ve got better places to be than a crappy laundromat in a bad part of town. That’s all.”

She studied him for a moment, the corner of her mouth lifting in what almost looked like amusement. “And you think you belong here?”

He let out a dry laugh, surprised by the question. “Probably more than most. It’s not exactly my first time in a place like this.”

“Figures,” she murmured, her gaze sweeping over him, taking in the worn leather jacket, the stubble, the roughness that clung to him like a second skin. “You look… I don’t know. Like you’re used to keeping people at a distance.”

Logan blinked, caught off guard by the accuracy of her observation. He shifted under her gaze, feeling exposed in a way he wasn’t used to. “Yeah, well,” he said, gruffly, “sometimes distance is a good thing. Keeps people safe.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her expression softening just a little. “Maybe. But it also keeps people alone.”

Her words hit him harder than he’d expected, settling into some quiet place inside him he’d thought was long gone. He didn’t know how to respond, so he just nodded, feeling the weight of her gaze on him like a challenge.

After a beat, she gathered her laundry, folding it with careful practiced movements, her hands steady and precise. He watched her, mesmerized by the quiet grace in each gesture, the way she seemed to carry her world with her, self-contained and resilient.

As she turned to leave, she glanced back at him, something unreadable in her eyes. “Take care, Logan,” she said, her voice softer now. It wasn’t a question—it was a goodbye, or maybe a warning.

He swallowed, surprised that she’d remembered his name. “Yeah… you too.”

She lingered for a second, then gave him a small nod and walked out, leaving the faint scent of lavender and the echo of her words hanging in the air.

Logan watched her go, feeling the ache of something unfinished settle in his chest. He’d wanted to ask her more, to find out what kept her here, what kept her so guarded. But he knew better than to push.

As he turned back to the hum of the washing machines, he realized he’d be counting down the days until he saw her again.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“Stryker’s pissed,” Wade muttered, slumping against the kitchen counter in their dingy apartment. The usual smirk was missing from his face, replaced by a look of weary frustration. “Doesn’t understand how, after two weeks, we haven’t found the guy.”

Logan leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, jaw tight. The truth was, he’d practically given up on the mission. They’d followed every lead, shaken down every contact, and come up with nothing. At this point, the search felt pointless. Hell, he could barely keep his head in the game—his mind kept drifting back to her. He hadn’t seen her in days, not since that run-in at the laundromat, and the silence from across the hall gnawed at him in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Tell him this shit takes time. We’ve done everything we can,” he said, the words coming out hollow. He didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore, not even for Wade.

Wade sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I already did. But, y’know, Stryker’s not exactly big on patience. Guy thinks we’re machines or something.” He shot Logan a sidelong glance, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “You all right, man?”

Logan grunted, brushing him off. “I need a drink,” he muttered, grabbing his worn leather jacket from the back of the sofa and heading for the door. He didn’t look back, didn’t wait for Wade’s response. The apartment felt too cramped, too stale, and he needed air—needed a chance, maybe, to see her.

He made his way down the narrow stairwell, taking two steps at a time, the dim light casting shadows over the worn wallpaper. The bar was quieter than usual, only a handful of regulars hunched over their drinks, lost in their thoughts. Logan scanned the room, his heart pounding harder than he cared to admit. He’d been hoping, half-expecting, to see her. But she kept to herself so much that even catching a glimpse felt like chasing smoke.

Then he saw her, and his breath caught. There she was, standing behind the bar, her sleeves rolled up, pouring a whiskey into a lowball glass with practiced precision. The faint glow of the bar lights softened her face, giving her an almost ethereal look in the dimness. She didn’t notice him at first, focused on her work, and he took a second just to watch her, feeling that strange pull tighten in his chest.

He slid onto a stool at the bar, waiting until she looked up and caught sight of him. Her eyes flickered with recognition, a brief, surprised spark that quickly settled into something more guarded.

“Didn’t know you worked here,” he said, his voice low and gruff.

She gave a small, almost shy smile, setting the glass she’d just poured in front of an older man at the end of the bar. “Just part-time,” she replied. “Pays the bills.”

Logan nodded, glancing at the bottles lined up behind her. “Don’t suppose you’d join me for a drink?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, though there was something distant in her eyes. “I don’t drink,” she said, wiping down the counter with a cloth. “But I can pour you something strong if that’s what you need.”

He shrugged, trying to act casual. “Maybe I just wanted company.”

She paused, her hand stilling for a moment as she looked at him. “Rough day?”

Logan let out a humorless chuckle. “You could say that.” He hesitated, then added, “Work’s… complicated.”

She tilted her head, watching him with that quiet, steady gaze that always seemed to see right through him. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who likes talking about his job.”

“Not much to talk about,” he muttered, though he could feel the weight of it pressing on him, heavier than he wanted to admit. He took a deep breath, fingers tapping restlessly on the bar. “Let’s just say I’ve been chasing something that doesn’t want to be found.”

She nodded, her expression hardening just a bit. “Sometimes it’s better to let things go. Not everything needs to be caught.” Her words were gentle, but they struck something deep inside him, making him feel exposed in a way he wasn’t used to.

He ran a hand over his face, weary. “Yeah, maybe. Just… hard to walk away when you’ve got orders breathing down your neck.”

She arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement breaking through her usual reserve. “So you’re the type who follows orders, huh?”

Logan smirked, shaking his head. “Not exactly. But sometimes you don’t get a choice.” He picked up his glass, taking a slow sip of the whiskey she’d poured, savoring the burn as it went down. “What about you? Seems like you don’t mind keeping to yourself.”

She shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m used to it. Less complicated that way.”

There was a pause, and he could sense something unspoken there, a hint of a story she wasn’t quite ready to tell. He felt an unexpected urge to ask, to push just a little, but he held back, afraid of scaring her off.

Instead, he said, “This place doesn’t exactly feel like… I don’t know. The kind of spot for someone who likes peace and quiet.”

She laughed softly, the sound warm and unexpected. “Probably not. But I don’t mind it here. It’s… predictable.” She looked down, fiddling with the edge of her towel, a small frown creasing her forehead. “I’ve had enough surprises for one lifetime.”

Logan watched her, feeling a pang of something he couldn’t name—sympathy, maybe, or just the strange, unexplainable need to understand her. “Yeah. I get that,” he murmured, surprising himself with how much he meant it. “I’m not much of a fan of surprises either.”

She glanced up, meeting his gaze, her expression softening. “Funny. Somehow, I think you’ve had your fair share.”

“More than I’d like,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. He wanted to tell her more, to somehow convey the weight he carried without unloading it all on her shoulders. But he was used to keeping that part of himself locked away. So instead, he just took another drink, feeling the burn of the whiskey like a familiar ache.

After a moment, she leaned on the bar, closer than she’d been before, and he caught a faint whiff of lavender—a soft, almost comforting scent that didn’t belong in a place like this. “For what it’s worth,” she said quietly, “you don’t seem like the kind of guy who belongs here.”

He looked up, caught off guard by her words. There was something raw in her gaze, something vulnerable she was letting him see, if only for a second. At that moment, he felt the urge to reach out, to say something real, something that might close the gap between them.

But the words stuck in his throat. All he could manage was a rough, “Yeah. Maybe neither of us do.”

She smiled faintly, a ghost of one, then straightened, the moment passing as quickly as it had come. “I should get back to work,” she said, her voice soft but distant again.

Logan nodded, watching as she moved down the bar to help another customer. The warmth she’d shown him vanished as she fell back into the rhythm of her job, her expression becoming neutral, polite, reserved.

He sat there for a while, nursing his drink, watching her from the corner of his eye. There was a part of him that wanted to wait until her shift ended, to walk her home, to find out more about the life she kept hidden behind that quiet, steady demeanor. But he knew better. They were both loners, both wary, both used to walls that kept the world at a distance.

Still, as he finally rose to leave, he couldn’t help but glance back one last time, catching her eye for a fleeting moment. There was something there—something unspoken, a silent understanding like they were both seeing the loneliness in each other.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

A door slammed somewhere down the hall, jolting Logan awake. He shot up, his senses immediately on high alert, ears ringing from the sudden noise. In this dump of an apartment building, chaos was as predictable as the peeling paint on the walls, but something about this was different. He felt it low in his gut—a tug of instinct that told him her door was the one that had slammed.

He didn’t even think twice. Rolling out of bed, he barely bothered to throw on a shirt, his sweatpants clinging to his legs as he stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The air was thick and stale, the smell of old carpet mingling with the faint, sour odor of cigarette smoke. Shadows pooled in the corners, and the weak fluorescent light flickered above, casting an eerie, washed-out glow over everything.

Logan froze when he spotted a lanky, rough-looking guy standing outside her door, his posture tense, fists clenched and white as he pounded on the wood.

“C’mon, let me in!” the guy snarled, his voice slurred and aggressive. “We’re not done talking!”

Logan’s jaw tightened, a surge of anger rising in his chest. He watched for a second, sizing the guy up—a wiry frame, greasy hair, clothes rumpled like he hadn’t changed in days. The man looked like trouble, the kind of guy who didn’t know when to take no for an answer. And if he was here banging on her door at this hour, that made him Logan’s problem.

Logan’s voice came out low and cold as he approached. “You wanna keep it down?”

The guy spun around, his eyes narrowing as he took in Logan’s broad shoulders, the scowl etched deep on his face. “Who the hell are you?” he sneered, but there was a flicker of hesitation, a hint of unease that Logan caught right away.

Logan took another step forward, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “I’m the guy who lives down the hall,” he said, his tone deadly calm. “And you’re about two seconds away from regretting that door you’re banging on.”

The guy’s sneer wavered, but he tried to puff himself up, stepping forward like he was going to make something of it. “This doesn’t concern you, man. I’m just trying to talk to my girl.”

The guy scoffed, but there was a nervous edge creeping into his voice now. “Look, we’re just… we’re going through some stuff. It’s none of your business.”

Logan took one more step, close enough that he could see the guy’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Last warning. Leave. Or I make you leave.”

Before the guy could respond, the door opened a crack, and she appeared, her face pale and tense, eyes darting between Logan and this guy. “Logan, don’t. Please,” she said, her voice softer than usual but carrying a weight that made him pause. “It’s… it’s fine. I can handle it.”

Logan glanced at her, his irritation tempered by a flash of confusion. Handle it? The guy was practically foaming at the mouth, and she was telling him to back off.

The guy shot her a pleading look. “Come on, babe, just give me five minutes. We can talk this out.”

Her shoulders stiffened, and Logan could see the resolve in her eyes as she shook her head. “I already told you, we’re done. There’s nothing left to talk about. Just go.”

The guy didn’t budge, his face twisting with frustration. “You’re being unreasonable. This is all because of that stupid job, isn’t it? You think you’re too good for me now, huh?”

Logan felt his patience snap. He took a step forward, his voice a low growl. “She said go. Don’t make me tell you again.”

The guy’s eyes flicked back to Logan, the last traces of defiance draining out of him. For a second, he seemed to weigh his options, then cursed under his breath and turned, stalking down the hallway. He cast one last resentful glare over his shoulder before disappearing down the stairs.

As soon as he was out of sight, Logan turned back to her. She was leaning against the doorframe, her face tight with frustration. He opened his mouth to ask if she was all right, but she cut him off with a weary sigh.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she muttered, her eyes fixed somewhere near the floor.

Logan frowned. “Seemed like he wasn’t getting the message,” he replied, keeping his voice gentler than usual. “Didn’t look like he was gonna leave you alone.”

She crossed her arms, hugging herself as if trying to put some barrier between them. “I just… I didn’t want to make things worse. He’s already been hanging around too much as it is, and now—” She trailed off, looking away, clearly uncomfortable.

Logan’s brows furrowed. He’d come out here ready to throw the guy down the stairs if it came to that, but now he was starting to see the other side of it. “Is he…?” Logan paused, not sure how to phrase it. “Your boyfriend?”

She shook her head quickly. “No–I mean he was, sort of. Not anymore.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “He’s just… he doesn’t know when to let go.”

Logan felt a flash of anger on her behalf, a protective instinct flaring up inside him. “If he gives you any more trouble, you let me know. I’ll make sure he stays gone.”

Instead of relief, his words seemed to frustrate her. She let out a soft huff, rubbing her temples. “Logan, I don’t need a knight in shining armor. This is… complicated. He’s just going through something. It doesn’t matter—” Her voice trailed off leaving the silence to hang between them.

Logan clenched his jaw, forcing himself to take a step back. He wasn’t used to being told to stand down, especially when he felt someone needed his help. But he could see this only made her more anxious, that his interference was complicating things for her in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

“Fine,” he said, though it took effort to keep his voice steady. “But if he shows up again, I’m not gonna just sit by and watch him bother you.”

She looked at him, her expression softening for a moment. There was a flicker of gratitude in her eyes, tempered by weariness. “Thanks, Logan. I appreciate it. Really, but it won’t make things easier. He’ll just think—I just don’t want any more problems, okay?”

He nodded, feeling a pang of something he couldn’t quite name. He’d wanted to protect her, to do something useful, but it seemed all he’d managed was to add to her stress. “Got it,” he said quietly.

She gave him a small, tentative smile, then turned back to her apartment. As she shut the door, he caught one last glimpse of her expression—tired, guarded, but grateful, like she was carrying the weight of more than just a bad ex.

Logan stood there for a long moment, staring at her closed door, hands clenched at his sides. He hadn’t realized how deeply he’d started to care until he’d felt that surge of anger seeing someone else give her trouble. But now he could feel her boundaries, a line she’d drawn that he hadn’t meant to cross.

Turning back to his apartment, he couldn’t shake the frustration coiled tight in his chest, or the quiet ache that came with knowing there were parts of her life he couldn’t protect her from.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“You and that girl—have you made any progress?” Wade asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he took a lazy sip of his beer. They were sitting in their usual corner of the bar, ostensibly keeping an eye out for any sign of their elusive target. But Wade’s attention, as usual, had drifted to more entertaining topics.

Logan huffed, eyes scanning the room. “What did I tell you, Wade? I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Sensitive subject, big guy?” Wade’s grin only widened, clearly enjoying himself. “C’mon, I’m just saying—you’ve been pining after her like a lovesick puppy for weeks now. You’re not exactly subtle.”

Logan shot him a glare that could’ve cut steel, but Wade just shrugged, unbothered. “Look, I’ve got a way with the ladies. Maybe I can help you out.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Wade wasn’t listening. His eyes lit up as the door opened, and she walked in, pulling on her apron as she headed behind the bar. Logan tried not to stare, but he felt that familiar pull in his chest, his gaze drawn to her almost against his will. She looked tired, a little more reserved than usual, like something heavy was weighing on her mind. He couldn’t help but wonder if her ex had been causing her trouble again. He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to ask, to do something to make it better.

That’s when Wade got up.

Logan’s stomach tightened as Wade strolled across the bar, his usual cocky swagger on full display. He watched, jaw clenched, as Wade leaned on the bar, flashing her one of his trademark grins. She looked up, startled at first, and Logan saw her eyes flick briefly toward him before settling back on Wade. Her expression softened into a polite, practiced smile, the kind she gave every customer. But Wade wasn’t satisfied with politeness.

He couldn’t hear exactly what Wade was saying due to his jealousy overtaking his senses, but he saw her give a small, hesitant laugh, the kind that looked like she was just being polite. That didn’t matter—Wade was relentless, leaning in closer, gesturing animatedly, probably telling some ridiculous story. After a few moments, Logan saw her laugh again, this time a little more genuine, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

Logan’s fingers tightened around his glass, the jealousy hitting him like a punch to the gut. He tried to ignore it, tried to tell himself it was nothing—just Wade being Wade. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Wade, sensing the effect he was having, shot a glance back at Logan, a smug grin flashing across his face before he turned back to her. Logan’s chest tightened. That bastard. He’d walked over there just to rile him up, and damn it, it was working.

Wade said something else, something that made her laugh again—this time a little louder, though Logan could tell it was still half-hearted, a courtesy laugh to appease the charming stranger who’d decided to bother her during her shift. She wasn’t truly engaged, but the sight of her laughing, even out of politeness, stirred something dark and possessive in Logan’s gut.

He forced himself to look away, taking a long drink to steady himself, but the sound of her laugh lingered, scratching at him. Wade was still leaning on the bar, still talking to her, probably laying it on thick just to make Logan squirm. Logan couldn’t help the flash of irritation that surged through him. It wasn’t like he’d made a claim on her or anything—but seeing Wade so close, making her laugh, it grated on him in a way he hadn’t expected.

After a few agonizing minutes, Wade finally sauntered back over, plopping down across from Logan with a satisfied smirk. Logan’s jaw was still clenched, his gaze flickering over to where she was now wiping down the bar, her expression already back to that familiar, guarded neutrality.

Wade raised an eyebrow, leaning in with a grin. “You see that? Had her laughing in no time. It’s called charm, my friend. You should try it sometime.”

Logan glared at him, his voice low and dangerous. “Cut the crap, Wade.”

“Oh, come on,” Wade chuckled, leaning back with a look of pure amusement. “Don’t be so uptight. If you’re not gonna make a move, someone else will.”

Logan’s fists tightened, and he forced himself to take a slow, steadying breath. “This isn’t a game, Wade.”

Wade shrugged, unbothered. “Never said it was. Just seems like you’re too busy brooding over her from a distance to actually, y’know, do anything.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a mocking whisper. “You afraid she’ll turn you down? Big, tough Logan afraid of a pretty girl?”

Logan’s nostrils flared, a quiet anger simmering in his chest, but he held back. He wasn’t going to give Wade the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he let his gaze drift back to her, watching as she moved behind the bar, her face calm but distant, like she was deliberately shutting herself off from everything around her.

The truth was, Wade wasn’t entirely wrong. Logan had been keeping his distance, unsure how to approach her, especially with everything going on in her life. He didn’t want to be another complication, another person who made things harder for her. But watching Wade talk to her, seeing that faint, forced smile on her face—it made him realize just how badly he wanted to be the one making her smile, not out of politeness or obligation, but because she actually wanted him there.

Wade leaned in, still smirking. “So? What’s the plan, big guy? You gonna sit here and sulk, or you gonna actually talk to her?”

Logan’s gaze snapped back to him, irritation flaring. “Unlike you, I don’t go around sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Hey, I was just being friendly,” Wade said, raising his hands in mock innocence. “You know, she’s pretty nice once you get her to open up a little. Thought I’d do you a favor, warm her up for you.”

Logan scoffed, but he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his tone. “She’s not some conquest, Wade.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Relax, old man. I’m not trying to steal her. Just trying to get you to wake up and do something about it before she slips away.” He glanced back toward the bar, where she was now stacking glasses, oblivious to their conversation. “You think she’s gonna wait around forever? Women like that don’t stay single long.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his heart pounding with a mixture of frustration and jealousy he couldn’t shake. He took another sip of his drink, forcing himself to keep his gaze on anything else instead of glancing her way again. The truth was, Wade’s words struck too close to home. He’d been holding back, convincing himself that he had time, that he didn’t need to rush things. But seeing her with someone else—even Wade—made him realize how thin that excuse really was.

After a moment, Logan set his glass down, his eyes cold and hard. “You don’t know the first thing about her, Wade.”

Wade shrugged, unfazed. “Maybe not. But neither do you, at this rate.” He flashed another grin, leaning back in his seat. “Look, you’re not gonna scare me off with your brooding, so maybe just… I don’t know, think about it. You might find that going over there and actually talking to her works better than glaring at me.”

Logan didn’t respond, but his gaze drifted back to her, watching as she moved with quiet efficiency, her expression carefully blank. He could still hear her forced laugh echoing in his head, the way she’d seemed to tolerate Wade’s attention rather than welcome it.

With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. If Wade wasn’t going to back off, maybe it was time to take matters into his own hands.

He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he knew one thing for sure: he couldn’t sit around and let someone else fill the space he’d been too afraid to claim.

Logan slid onto the bar stool in front of her, his presence a solid weight she couldn’t ignore, even though she kept her eyes down, focused on wiping an already-clean spot on the counter. She looked up briefly, her gaze flicking to him before darting away, a faint, polite smile barely gracing her lips.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

“Hi.” She answered quietly, her eyes settling somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but on him. Her hands kept busy, her movements almost mechanical as she straightened the bottles on the bar and rearranged the napkins as if his presence alone made her feel she had to be doing something.

Logan felt a pang of something uncomfortably close to regret. He wasn’t used to this—a woman shrinking away from him, putting up walls before he’d even had a chance to say his piece. The memory of her ex banging on her door flashed through his mind, and he shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look, about the other night,” he began, voice rougher than he intended. “I… I didn’t mean to, y’know, step in like that. I just thought—well, it seemed like you needed help.”

She finally looked at him, her gaze sharp and guarded, like she was measuring each word before letting it reach her. “It’s fine,” she said flatly, her tone clipped. “I can handle my own problems.”

Logan swallowed, feeling the rejection like a slap. He knew she was brushing him off, trying to make him back down, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let it go. “Didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t,” he muttered, his voice softer. “Just… didn’t want to see you put in a bad spot.”

She let out a small, humorless laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she busied herself with the glasses on the bar. “Bad spots are part of the package around here, Logan. You don’t need to make it your business.”

He leaned forward slightly, brow furrowing. “Maybe I just don’t like seeing you get hurt.” The words came out more intense than he’d intended, and he saw her stiffen, her hands pausing mid-reach. She looked up, really looked at him, a flash of something unreadable in her eyes—surprise, maybe, or irritation. It was hard to tell.

She took a breath, visibly collecting herself. “Logan… I appreciate the concern, really. But I’m fine.” Her voice was steady but distant like she was pulling herself back behind a wall he couldn’t get through. “This kind of thing… it’s not new to me.”

That didn’t sit right with him, the idea of her having to handle men like her ex, people who didn’t take no for an answer. He wanted to ask her more, to understand what kind of trouble she’d been through, but he knew that line was dangerous. Respect her space, he reminded himself, even as the urge to push gnawed at him.

But he couldn’t help himself. “You don’t… you don’t have anyone else to look out for you?”

Her gaze flicked to him, sharper now, her eyes narrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just…” He faltered, feeling himself starting to drown in the weight of his awkwardness. “You don’t seem to have anyone around. Family, friends. Someone who could back you up if things got rough.”

She stared at him for a long, tense moment, her expression unreadable. Then she let out a slow, controlled exhale, setting down the glass she’d been wiping with careful deliberation. “Logan, you don’t know me. And frankly, I don’t know you. You and your friend…” She paused, glancing over at Wade, who was lounging at the other end of the bar, eyeing them with an amused grin. “You both keep… hovering. And it’s starting to feel a little strange.”

Logan’s jaw tightened and a wave of frustration and embarrassment crashed over him. “It’s not like that,” he muttered, a bit too defensively. “We’re just… we’re just looking out for you. This place isn’t exactly safe.”

She raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. “And you think I don’t know that? You think I don’t understand the risks of living here?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, his words failing him. He realized he’d overstepped, pushed too far without thinking. She didn’t need a protector, at least not one who bulldozed into her life without an invitation. And yet, here he was, sitting at her bar, trying to fix things he barely understood.

“I’m just saying…” He trailed off, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “I see you here, night after night, putting up with jerks who don’t know when to quit. You’re not like them. You deserve better.”

Her expression softened, but only slightly, and she glanced away, a distant look in her eyes. “Better,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Right.” She looked back at him, meeting his gaze with something close to resignation. “I don’t need saving, Logan. I’ve been doing just fine without it.”

He swallowed, hating how small those words made him feel. He’d faced down enemies, been through battles that left him scarred in ways she couldn’t imagine, but sitting here under her gaze, he felt exposed, clumsy, like he was fumbling in the dark.

She sighed, glancing down, and for a moment, he saw a hint of vulnerability in her expression—a crack in her armor. “Why are you really here?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Why are you and your friend even bothering with me? I’m just… some bartender.”

Logan hesitated, feeling Wade’s eyes on him from across the room, knowing he was probably getting a kick out of watching him squirm. But this was more than just Wade’s meddling. This was him, unable to walk away, pulled back to her time and time again for reasons he couldn’t explain.

“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” he said finally, his voice low, but steady. “You’re… different. Strong. I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “I know I’m not good with words, but… I see you here, and I just keep thinking you deserve more than this.”

She looked at him, her guarded expression softening, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw something crack beneath the surface—a glimmer of vulnerability, something raw and unguarded. But then, just as quickly, she pulled back, straightening, her walls going up again.

“Oh, so I’m a charity case now?” she murmured, her voice tight and distant, the hint of anger simmering beneath her words. She crossed her arms, shifting her weight as she looked him over, her gaze cold and appraising. “Look, I told you—I don’t need anyone looking out for me, especially not some guy who doesn’t know when he’s made someone uncomfortable.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, each one sinking in deep. Logan’s mouth opened, but no words came out. He felt his face go hot, a mix of shame and frustration twisting inside him. He wanted to explain himself, to tell her he hadn’t meant it that way—but the look on her face told him that anything he said now would only make things worse.

“I—” he started, then stopped, swallowing hard. She kept her eyes on him, unblinking, her expression hard as steel. He could see it now—the line he’d crossed, the space he’d invaded without thinking. He’d thought he was helping, protecting her, but all he’d done was make her feel trapped.

Logan clenched his fists under the bar, forcing himself to stay quiet, to listen. He’d been on the other side of this before—people assuming things about him, trying to fix things they didn’t understand. Now, for the first time, he realized he was doing the same thing to her. He looked down, shame tightening in his chest.

She shook her head, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “You barely know me, Logan. You have no idea what I’ve been through. And I’m not interested in becoming some project for you to fix or some one-night stand.”

Her words stung, cutting through the last shreds of his defensiveness. He’d been telling himself he was looking out for her, that she needed someone to stand up for her. But now he could see how it must have looked to her—some guy she barely knew, showing up again and again, prying into her life, acting like he knew better.

He cleared his throat, voice rough. “You’re right,” he said quietly, finally meeting her gaze. “I… I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

She watched him, her eyes softened just a fraction, though the wariness remained. He could feel the weight of his own mistakes pressing down on him, making him feel clumsy and exposed.

“Look,” she said, her tone gentler but still guarded, “I appreciate whatever it is you’re trying to do. Really. But you don’t get to decide what I need. That’s my choice. And if I want help, I’ll ask for it.”

He nodded slowly, feeling a strange mix of relief and regret. He could sense the walls she’d put up, and he knew now that he was part of the reason they were there.

He stood up, feeling the weight of her words settle over him like a cold ache. “Right. Sorry if we made things weird,” he muttered, his voice gruffer than he intended. “Didn’t mean to… overstep.”

For the first time, she seemed to soften, her gaze losing some of its hardness. She let out a long breath, looking down at the bar as if collecting her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice was almost kind, but there was an edge to it, a reminder.

“Just… maybe think twice before you go around trying to be someone’s hero,” she said, her lips curving into a faint, sad smile.

Logan felt the weight of her words settle over him, heavier than anything he’d carried in a long time. He nodded, swallowing back the urge to say more. For once, he knew he needed to let her have the last word.

She turned away, her attention shifting to a group of customers at the other end of the bar. She moved with quiet efficiency, her shoulders tense but steady, shutting him out completely.

Logan stood there for a moment, feeling the full sting of her rejection, the ache of realizing he’d overstepped in ways he couldn’t take back. She didn’t look at him again, didn’t acknowledge his presence, and he knew he’d lost whatever fragile connection they’d had.

“Smooth, as always,” Wade drawled, leaning back with an infuriating grin.

Logan ignored him, his jaw clenched tight as he sat down. He’d thought he was protecting her but all he’d done was drive her further away.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

The past few days, Logan had kept a low profile, barely leaving the apartment except to grab food or take out the trash. He didn’t want to risk running into her—not after the way she’d shut him down, her words echoing in his mind like a bruise that wouldn’t fade. She’d made it perfectly clear that she didn’t need his help, and he’d gotten the message. Loud and clear.

But tonight, Wade had barged in with new intel from Stryker. Apparently, their elusive journalist was on the move, spotted hanging around one of the local clubs. Logan hadn’t been in the mood to play dress-up and join the nightlife, but he didn’t have much choice. Stryker was breathing down their necks, and if this was their best shot at tracking the guy down, he couldn’t let it slip by.

So he’d reluctantly thrown on a clean shirt and made the walk a few blocks down to the club, Wade at his side, chattering nonstop as they reached the entrance.

“It’s a bit nicer than the bar we live above,” Wade noted, casting a glance around the neon-lit exterior with approval. A line of people waited outside, all glittering dresses and sharp suits, laughter, and perfume filling the warm night air. Wade smirked, nudging Logan with his elbow. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you can find another pretty girl to make up for your last crash-and-burn.”

Logan rolled his eyes, ignoring Wade’s jab. “We’re here to find the journalist. Stay focused,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as they made their way inside. The club was dimly lit, pulsing with low red and blue lights that throbbed to the beat of the music. Bodies moved on the dance floor, a tangle of arms and laughter and heat, and Logan felt a familiar irritation simmering under his skin. Clubs weren’t his scene. Too loud, too crowded, too many damn people.

He forced himself to concentrate, sniffing the air, trying to pick up any hint of their target’s scent. But the mix of sweat, cologne, and spilled alcohol made it nearly impossible to pick up anything distinctive. He scanned the crowd, his eyes narrowing as he tried to catch sight of anyone who looked remotely like the guy they were hunting.

But then he saw her.

At first, he thought he was imagining it—a trick of the lights, or just his mind playing cruel games. But no. It was her, standing near the edge of the dance floor, laughing at something some woman was saying. She looked… different. Completely different from the guarded, quiet bartender he’d met. Her hair was loose, falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and her lips were painted a glossy, tempting shade that caught the light every time she smiled. She wore a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, showing off a side of her he’d never seen before, a side he hadn’t even known existed.

Logan’s mouth went dry, and for a moment, he forgot why he was even there. All he could think about was her—the way she moved, the easy smile on her face, the way her laughter seemed to cut through the noise of the club like it was meant for him alone. He’d been trying to avoid her, trying to keep his distance, but seeing her like this, carefree and vibrant… pulled him in, like a magnet he couldn’t resist.

Wade must have noticed his distraction, because he gave Logan a light smack on the shoulder, pulling him out of his trance. “Logan, buddy, don’t tell me you’re still stuck on her,” Wade said, his tone half-amused, half-annoyed. “I swear, I’ve never seen you this pathetic over anyone. Rejection’s hitting you hard, huh?”

Logan shook his head, forcing himself to tear his gaze away, though his eyes kept drifting back to her. “It’s not like that,” he muttered, more to himself than to Wade. “We’re here for the journalist. Just… keep your eyes open.”

Wade wasn’t buying it. He crossed his arms, smirking. “Oh, I’m keeping my eyes open, all right. You, on the other hand…” He whistled, nodding in her direction. “You’re about one second away from abandoning the mission to go talk to her. I mean, come on. If you’re that obsessed, just go over there already.”

Logan clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to punch Wade then and there. But a part of him hated that Wade was right. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since their last conversation, and now, seeing her like this, he was barely holding himself back.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he started making his way across the crowded floor, ignoring Wade’s low chuckle behind him. As he approached, she turned slightly, her gaze sweeping over the crowd until it landed on him. Her smile faltered, surprise flickering in her eyes before she quickly masked it, her face shifting into something more guarded.

“Logan,” she said, her tone cautious, almost as if she were bracing herself. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling out of place, unsure what to say. “Yeah. Didn’t expect to see you either,” he replied, his voice gruffer than he intended. “You… uh, you look different.” He instantly regretted it, realizing how awkward it sounded.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Different?”

“Good different,” he amended quickly, his cheeks warming. Real smooth, Logan, he thought, mentally kicking himself.

She glanced away, a faint frown tugging at her lips.“Thanks I guess,” she said, then gestured to her friend, who was watching the exchange with barely concealed interest. “I’m just here with my friend, Monica. She thought it was a good idea for girls’ night and dragged me out.” He could see a flash of uncomfortableness before she masked it.

Logan nodded, his mind racing, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a fool. But before he could gather his thoughts, her friend nudged her playfully, smirking at Logan.

“So, this is the guy you told me about?” Monica asked, her eyes dancing with mischief.

She shot Monica a warning look, her cheeks flushing. “I… I didn’t tell you that much,” she muttered, casting a quick, embarrassed glance at Logan.

A flicker of hope stirred in his chest. She talked about me? He tried not to let it show, but the thought sent a spark through him, making him stand a little straighter.

Monica gave her a knowing smile, then leaned closer to Logan, lowering her voice. “Just so you know, she’s been playing hard to get for a reason. But maybe she’s finally ready to let someone in.”

Logan looked at her, the guarded woman he’d met behind the bar now looking distinctly uncomfortable, her cheeks flushed a warm pink. She looked away, biting her lip, and he realized she was just as thrown off-balance as he was.

For a moment, they stood in silence, the thrum of the club’s music pulsing around them, the energy of the room fading into the background. All he could see was her—her flushed cheeks, the slight nervousness in her gaze, the softness in her expression that he’d never seen before.

Monica sighed dramatically, looking between them with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Oh, look at that. I need another drink,” she announced, clearly not needing one at all. She winked at her friend. “Plus, I think I see a cute guy over there. You two… have fun.” With one last grin, she slipped away, disappearing into the crowd and leaving them alone.

Logan took a steadying breath, forcing himself to look her in the eyes, to say what he’d been meaning to since their last conversation. “Listen… about the other night,” he began, voice low and careful. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She hesitated, searching his face. He held her gaze, hoping she could see he meant it. For a moment, he thought he saw the walls she kept around herself soften, just a little. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the thrum of the music. “It’s just… I’m not used to people getting involved in my life.”

Logan nodded, understanding more than he could put into words. “I’m not exactly used to… letting people in either.” The confession felt strange on his tongue, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t planned, but it was the truth. He could see that she understood, her expression shifting from guarded to something softer, that made his heart beat a little faster.

They stood there, inches apart, the pulse of the club and the chatter of people fading into the background. Logan wanted to reach out, to touch her hand, to bridge that last bit of distance between them, but he held back, waiting for her lead.

After a moment, she gave him a tentative smile. “Did Wade drag you out here?” she asked, the tension easing just a bit as a hint of humor crept into her voice.

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “What makes you think that?”

She shrugged, glancing away shyly. “You don’t… you’re like me,” she said, fumbling over her words. “I just didn’t think you’d be the kind of guy who’d want to go to a club.”

He smiled, trying to put her at ease. “I go to bars all the time. Almost the same thing, right?”

She let out a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so. I don’t drink, but Monica always drags me out, says it’s ‘good for me.’” She made air quotes, rolling her eyes slightly.

“I know.” Logan’s face went hot. “I mean, I remember you don’t drink. That’s why… well, I guess that’s why I was surprised to see you here.” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his footing. “But you look… different tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow, her expression growing cautious. “You already said that. Do you make it a habit to repeat yourself?”

Logan fumbled for the right words, suddenly feeling like a teenager on his first date. “I mean…you look beautiful tonight,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. His gaze flicked over her, taking her in again.

She went very still, her eyes searching his face. For a second, he thought he’d finally broken through to her, that maybe she could see how much he meant it. But then her expression shifted, her lips pressing together, her eyes hardening. She looked down, and he could see her shoulders tense, her arms wrapping around herself as if she were closing off.

“Oh,” she said quietly, a forced, brittle smile tugging at her lips. “So… what? I only look beautiful when I’m dressed up? When I’m… like this?”

Logan’s eyes widened, realization hitting him like a slap. “No—no, that’s not what I meant.”

She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper as she looked away. “I knew it was stupid to come out tonight,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “Guess I’m just someone you feel sorry for? Want to just take pity on?”

“Hey, no—” Logan reached for her arm instinctively, but she pulled back, her face turning away to hide the tears welling in her eyes. The sight made his chest tighten, guilt flooding him as he realized just how badly he’d misstepped.

“I thought maybe…” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, brushing a hand quickly across her cheek. “Never mind.” She looked back at him, her eyes glossy, her expression one of hurt and frustration. “Forget it, Logan. I don’t need this.”

“Wait,” he said, desperate now, his voice thick with regret. “It’s not pity. I just… I wanted you to know that I—”

She didn’t let him finish. With a tight, broken smile, she turned on her heel, pushing her way through the crowd and disappearing into the pulsing mass of bodies on the dance floor. He stood there, frozen, watching her slip away, her silhouette vanishing into the blur of lights and movement.

Logan felt an ache settle deep in his chest, the weight of her words sinking in. He’d tried so hard to find the right thing to say, to make her see how he felt—but all he’d done was confirm her worst fears, making her feel like he only saw her worth when she was dressed up, made up, transformed into someone she thought he’d want.

He stood there for a moment, lost in the noise and the lights, feeling the regret gnawing at him like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

Behind him, Wade sidled up, taking in Logan’s expression with a low whistle. “Well, that looked like it went well.”

Logan glared at him, too frustrated to respond. Wade shook his head, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Man, you’re really a disaster with women, you know that?”

Logan clenched his fists, ignoring Wade’s taunts as he scanned the crowd, hoping for another glimpse of her, even though he knew she wouldn’t want to see him right now. He’d messed up, probably worse than he’d ever messed up anything before. But he couldn’t just leave it like this. Not when she was the one person he couldn’t get out of his mind.

Without a word to Wade, he pushed through the crowd, determination hardening in his chest. He didn’t know how he was going to fix this, but he knew one thing—he wasn’t going to let her slip away again. Not like this.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan spotted her near the dimly lit hallway by the bathrooms, sitting on the floor with her legs curled up to her chest, her face buried in her arms. The sight stopped him. She looked so small, so vulnerable, and the thought that he’d been the one to put that hurt in her eyes twisted something painful inside him. He knew he should leave her alone—she’d already told him to. But he couldn’t. Not when he felt the ache of her words as if they’d been carved into him.

He took a cautious step closer, clearing his throat. “Hey… I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice barely audible over the muffled thump of music from the club. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She looked up, her eyes red and swollen from crying, and the guilt hit him all over again. Her gaze was sharp, guarded, but there was a flicker of something softer beneath it—a weariness like she was tired of feeling this way.

“Just go away, Logan,” she said, her voice wavering as she hugged her knees tighter. “Haven’t you done enough?”

He wanted to reach out, to touch her shoulder, anything to make this right, but he held back, forcing himself to respect her space. “Please,” he said, his voice rough. “Just… hear me out. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She let out a bitter laugh, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “It’s not your fault,” she said, cutting him off. Her voice was shaky and raw, but there was a surprising steadiness underneath like she was trying to take control of her pain. “I… I overthink things. I read too much into what people say.”

Logan shook his head, his brow furrowing. “But I should’ve been more careful with my words. I—”

“It’s not about you, Logan,” she interrupted, her gaze dropping to the floor. She took a shaky breath as if she were forcing herself to let him see a piece of herself she usually kept hidden. “All my life, I’ve only ever felt… I don’t know, noticed… when I was all dressed up. People would tell me I was beautiful, but only when I was like this,” she gestured to her dress, her makeup, the polished version of herself that she’d put on tonight. “And somewhere along the line, I guess I just started to believe that’s all there was to me. That if I wasn’t done up, I didn’t… matter.”

Logan’s chest tightened as he listened, his discomfort fading in the face of her honesty. He understood, more than she realized. He knew what it felt like to wear a mask, to be seen in a way that didn’t match who you were.

“Look, I get it,” he said softly, his voice thick. “I know what it’s like to feel like… like you’re on the outside. Like people only see a part of you and ignore the rest.”

She let out a short, almost bitter laugh, her gaze flicking over him, taking in the rugged, handsome man who had sat next to her. “You? An outsider?” she said, the skepticism clear in her voice. “Come on, Logan. Look at you. How could someone like you know what it feels like to not… fit?”

He swallowed, feeling the old scars hidden beneath the surface ache in response to her words. “You’d be surprised,” he murmured, his gaze distant for a moment as he stared at the wall across from them. “People see what they want to see. This…” He gestured vaguely to himself, his broad shoulders, his gruff exterior. “It’s just armor. Doesn’t mean I fit in. Doesn’t mean I feel at home anywhere.”

She went quiet, studying him with a new kind of curiosity, like she was seeing a side of him she hadn’t expected. Her expression softened, and for a moment, the two of them sat in silence, the thumping bass of the club seeming to fade into the background, leaving them in their own little world.

“I didn’t know…” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible.

Logan shrugged, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I’m not saying it’s the same. Just… I get it. You feel like you have to be something else, just to be seen. But you don’t. You’re worth a hell of a lot more than some fancy dress and makeup.”

She blinked, looking down, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “I… I don’t know how to believe that,” she admitted, her voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear it.

He felt a strange surge of protectiveness, an urge to make her see herself the way he did. “You don’t have to believe it all at once,” he said softly. “Just… start small. You’re here, right? That’s a start.”

She looked up at him, a faint glimmer of hope mixed with hesitation in her eyes. “You really think so?”

Logan nodded, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Yeah. I do.” He hesitated, then added, “And for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean that you’re only beautiful like this. I meant… I just meant that you looked happy. You looked… free. That’s what I saw.”

A soft, surprised smile tugged at her lips, and he felt a flicker of relief, like maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t ruined everything.

“I guess… I guess I did feel a little free tonight,” she admitted, her voice tentative, like she was still testing the idea out.

They sat there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Logan felt the weight of her gaze, his eyes shifting to look down at her glossy lips. He didn’t understand why it stirred something deep inside him.

Finally, she looked away, clearing her throat. “Thanks,” she murmured, glancing up at him with a tentative smile. “For… understanding. And for not letting me just sit here feeling sorry for myself.”

“Anytime,” Logan replied, his voice a soft, steady rumble, grounding her.

They stayed like that, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her shoulder, neither of them moving to fill the space between them. It was rare for him to feel like this—like he could just be here, be himself, and have that be enough. She seemed to relax, letting herself breathe in his presence, a hint of comfort settling into her expression.

But then her friend’s voice sliced through the moment, loud and slightly tipsy, echoing down the hallway. “There you are!” Monica stumbled to a halt, her eyes narrowing the second she noticed the red around her friend’s eyes, the tear tracks still faintly visible on her cheeks. Monica’s gaze shot to Logan, her eyes flashing with instant, protective suspicion. “What the hell? Did this guy—”

She quickly got to her feet, hands up in reassurance, cheeks flushing. “No, no, it’s fine,” she said, glancing back at Logan with an apologetic look. “Logan didn’t do anything.”

Monica crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “You swear? Because I’m pretty sure I could kick his ass, even if he’s big.”

Logan almost laughed, but he held back, just giving a slight shake of his head. “I’m harmless,” he muttered, though the hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Monica narrowed her eyes, looking between them with obvious doubt. “Fine. I’ll let it go… for now.” She slipped her arm around her friend’s shoulders, lowering her voice. “But hey, I found someone way more fun than this brooding guy. He’s tall, dark, and cute as hell,” Monica said, shooting Logan a sideways look. “Let’s go, yeah?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering back to Logan, lingering there for a moment. He could see the indecision in her eyes, the hint of a question, like she wasn’t entirely ready to walk away. Part of him wanted to reach out, to tell her to stay, to keep talking, but he bit the words back. He knew she didn’t owe him anything, and he wasn’t about to guilt her into staying.

She gave him a small, reluctant smile, a little sad around the edges. “I… I’ll see you around, Logan,” she said softly like she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Yeah,” he replied, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “Take care.”

With one last glance, she let Monica tug her back toward the crowded, neon-lit main room, disappearing into the sea of people. Logan stayed where he was, the ache in his chest unfamiliar and raw. He hadn’t wanted to let her go, but he’d seen the uncertainty in her eyes, the pull between her friend and whatever connection they’d shared just moments before. And he couldn’t blame her for choosing the friend who’d stood by her through who-knew-what, instead of the stranger who’d stumbled into her life.

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. He’d almost forgotten why he was even here, but the reality of it settled back over him like a cold splash of water. The mission. The damn journalist.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself off the wall, heading back into the main area to find Wade, hoping he’d at least managed to keep his eye on their target. But as he scanned the crowd, a familiar laugh caught his attention, coming from the back corner of the club.

He sighed, already knowing what he’d find.

Sure enough, Wade was slouched in a booth with some girl draped over him, her fingers tangled in his hair, her lipstick smudged against his cheek. They were laughing, Wade’s arm wrapped possessively around her waist, clearly oblivious to everything else.

Logan clenched his fists, feeling a fresh wave of irritation rise. He pushed through the crowd and stopped in front of the booth, crossing his arms. “We’re supposed to be working, remember?”

Wade looked up, still grinning, completely unbothered. “Oh, hey, Logan!” he slurred, throwing an arm out as if he were inviting Logan to join in on the fun. “Lighten up, man. Haven’t seen you all night. What, were you off getting cozy with your lady friend?”

Logan’s jaw tightened. “We have a job to do, Wade. You know, finding the journalist? Stryker’s going to be thrilled if we come back empty-handed because you were too busy making out in the corner.”

Wade just laughed, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Relax, Logan. We’ve been chasing this guy for weeks, and he hasn’t shown up once. If he’s even here, he’s not coming out till way later. Might as well have a little fun while we wait.”

Logan shot a glare at Wade’s “date,” who giggled and nuzzled closer, clearly not bothered by the tension. He felt his patience snap, his frustration boiling over. All night, he’d been on edge, caught between his need to finish the job and the emotions he couldn’t quite bury when it came to her. And now here was Wade, throwing it all away for a quick thrill.

“Fine,” Logan bit out, his voice low. “You go ahead and have your fun, Wade. I’m finishing this myself.”

Wade chuckled, unfazed. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that, man. It’s just one night. Besides…” He shot Logan a knowing look. “I saw the way you looked at her. Maybe you should be thanking me. Gave you a chance to make a move.”

Logan didn’t respond, but Wade’s words hit uncomfortably close to the truth. He had been distracted. He’d let his focus slip, and now he was paying for it.

Without another word, Logan turned on his heel and stalked away, pushing through the crowd toward the exit. The night air hit him like a slap, cool and bracing, but it didn’t do much to ease the frustration roiling inside him. He’d let Wade derail the mission, let his own emotions cloud his judgment, and now the whole thing felt like a waste.

As he started down the street, his mind drifted back to her—the way she’d looked at him, the faint trace of hurt in her eyes before she’d walked away. He clenched his fists, a new determination hardening in his chest. He might have blown this mission tonight, but he wasn’t done. Not with the mission, and not with her.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan had barely made it back to the apartment before exhaustion took hold, weighing down his limbs. He kicked off his boots and peeled off his shirt, letting it drop carelessly to the floor before sinking onto the bed. His mind was still tangled with thoughts of her—her quiet smile, the guarded look in her eyes, the way she’d walked away with her friend’s encouragement. He’d messed things up, and the night felt like one long series of missed chances.

He’d only been asleep for a couple of hours when a noise jolted him awake. At first, he thought it was part of some half-formed nightmare or maybe just the usual racket from one of the neighbors. But then he caught something familiar—her voice, muffled through the thin walls. He strained his hearing, every instinct snapping to attention. A glance at the grimy clock on his nightstand told him it was 1:29 a.m.

She must have just gotten home. But she wasn’t alone.

Logan sat up, his heartbeat quickening. He knew he should let it go, should just lie back down and ignore whatever was happening on the other side of the wall. But before he could think better of it, he slipped out of bed, padding across the creaky floorboards to the front door. He pressed his ear to the wall, barely breathing, his heightened senses picking up every word.

The guy’s voice was low and easy, with that too-smooth tone Logan had learned to distrust. He sounded friendly enough, but there was an edge of expectation, a subtle suggestion that grated against Logan’s nerves.

“So… tonight was fun,” the guy was saying, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Maybe we could do it again? Tomorrow, maybe?”

Logan could picture her expression without even seeing it—those walls going up, that faint, polite smile she used when she didn’t want to let someone in. He heard her let out a soft sigh.

“I’m… not really sure about tomorrow,” she replied, her voice guarded, cautious. “I have a lot going on.”

The guy chuckled, but there was a forced quality to it. “Come on, just a drink or something. You don’t have to play so hard to get, you know?”

Logan felt his jaw clench, his hands curling into fists at his sides. The guy was pushing, trying to wear down her resistance, and it grated on him like sandpaper. He didn’t like the way it sounded, didn’t like the edge in the guy’s voice like he thought he could charm his way past her boundaries. Logan’s instinct to protect her flared, raw, and almost territorial, even though he knew he had no right to feel that way.

There was a pause, and he could hear her shifting, probably stepping back, putting a little distance between them. “It’s not that,” she said, a little too politely. “I just… need some space, that’s all. Tonight was nice, but—”

“Space, huh?” the guy interrupted, his tone slipping from charming to something a little sharper. “You know, you don’t make it easy, do you?”

Another pause, and he heard her take a breath, steady but firm. “I appreciate tonight. Really. But I’m not looking for… anything serious.”

The guy let out a huff, barely masking his disappointment. “All right,” he said, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t happy about it. “Guess I’ll see you around, then.”

Logan listened, tense, as he heard the guy’s footsteps retreating down the hallway. Only when he heard the click of her door closing did he let out the breath he’d been holding. His fists unclenched, but the tension in his chest didn’t ease. He knew she’d handled it. She didn’t need him intervening. But the way the guy had pushed, the subtle pressure in his tone… made Logan’s blood simmer.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he slipped into the hallway, moving quietly until he reached her door. He hesitated, one hand raised, hovering just above the wood. Part of him knew he should just let it be, go back to his apartment, and leave her alone. But he couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him, the urge to make sure she was really all right.

He knocked, softly at first, then a little louder when he didn’t hear anything.

A moment later, the door cracked open, and she peered out, eyes widening when she saw him. She looked tired, her makeup smudged, a faint crease of worry lingering between her brows. “Logan?” she said, sounding surprised, her voice soft and uncertain. “What are you…?”

He swallowed, his voice coming out rougher than he’d meant. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re okay. I heard him… y’know. Talking.”

She sighed, glancing back into her apartment for a moment before opening the door a little wider. “You were listening?” she asked, a faint hint of annoyance in her tone.

Logan shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Just… wanted to make sure he didn’t give you any trouble.”

She looked at him, her expression softening, the guardedness melting away just a little. “It’s fine, Logan. Really. He was… nice, mostly. Just… maybe he wanted something I’m not ready to give.”

Logan nodded, relief mingling with an odd sense of satisfaction at her words. “Good. That he’s gone, I mean.” He hesitated, then added, quieter, “I just didn’t like the way he sounded. Like he thought he could… push you around.”

Her lips pressed into a faint smile, something close to gratitude in her eyes. “Thanks. But I can handle guys like that.” She let out a tired laugh. “I’ve been handling guys like that for a while now.”

He nodded, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze searching hers. “Yeah. I know you can.” He paused, then added, almost reluctantly, “But you don’t have to do it alone, y’know. If anyone bothers you… I’m right across the hall.”

She looked up at him, her eyes lingering on his face, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of vulnerability there—a quiet gratitude she wasn’t quite ready to express. But then she shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, Logan,” she murmured. “But… I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep an eye on me. I don’t want to be someone’s… responsibility.”

He shook his head. “It’s not that. I just… I care. That’s all.”

Her eyes softened, and she looked away, swallowing hard. “I don’t see why you care. Why you would…given…we barely know each other.” She paused, carefully considering her words. “But it’s been a long time since someone cared,” she admitted quietly, almost as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Logan could feel the weight of her words hanging in the air. He reached out, his hand hovering just above her shoulder, but he stopped himself, dropping his hand before it made contact.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he said, his voice a soft murmur. “I’m here.”

She gave him a small, hesitant smile, a hint of hope breaking through the walls she kept so carefully in place. “Thank you, Logan.”

He nodded, stepping back to give her space, though he didn’t want to leave. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

She nodded, watching him as he turned to go, lingering in the doorway as if part of her didn’t want to close the door just yet. As he walked back to his apartment, he felt something shift in him—a quiet, steady resolve to be there, to be someone she could trust.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan was pacing back and forth in the small, dingy apartment, so agitated that even Wade seemed annoyed for once. Wade lounged on the couch, a magazine in one hand and a look of pure exasperation on his face as he watched Logan wearing a path into the floor.

“Why are you like this?” Wade finally snapped, tossing the magazine aside. “Did your parents not love you, or something? Because this level of brooding is painful to watch, even for me.”

Logan shot him a glare, but he didn’t have a comeback this time. His usual sarcasm was buried under a mess of thoughts he couldn’t quite untangle. He ran a hand through his hair, his voice coming out quieter, almost hesitant. “It’s just… she actually seemed like she wanted to talk to me last night. Like, really talk.”

Wade rolled his eyes, folding his arms behind his head. “God, I don’t see how I keep missing your late-night heart-to-hearts in the hallway,” he said with exaggerated interest. “Sounds like you’re one step away from serenading her or something.”

Logan’s eyes kept drifting to the door, that nagging worry gnawing at him. He hadn’t heard her leave her apartment all morning, and he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong.

Finally, Wade sat up, giving him a pointed look. “Look, man, there’s only one way to stop acting like a lovesick teenager. Just go knock on her door. You’re driving me nuts over here.”

Logan hesitated, shifting his weight. Part of him hated the idea of just showing up unannounced, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of urgency. He needed to see her, to know she was okay. Before he could talk himself out of it, he gave Wade a grudging nod and headed for the door.

"Finally," Wade muttered behind him, smirking. "Go get her, tiger."

Logan ignored him, stepping into the dim hallway. He crossed the few steps to her apartment, his hand hovering just above the door. He took a breath, steadying himself, then knocked—softly at first, then louder when there was no response.

Silence.

He waited, his heartbeat picking up as seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity. He knocked again, pressing his ear to the door, straining to hear any movement inside. But there was nothing. No footsteps, no soft shuffle of her usual routine. An uneasy feeling crept over him. He hadn’t heard her leave that morning. Had he missed something? Was she—

Just then, he heard the familiar sound of footsteps echoing up the stairwell, and he turned, relief flooding him. But the relief was short-lived, quickly turning into confusion as he took in the scene.

She was coming up the stairs, but she wasn’t alone. Walking beside her was the guy from last night—the one her friend had set her up with. The guy was laughing, leaning a little too close to her, and Logan felt his jaw tighten instinctively. She had her arms crossed, her posture guarded but polite, and though she didn’t look particularly comfortable, she wasn’t pushing him away either.

Logan stood frozen, his hand still raised as if to knock, caught between relief and a prickling sense of jealousy. She looked up and noticed him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“Logan,” she said, stopping on the landing. Her voice was a mix of surprise and something else he couldn’t quite place—maybe guilt, or hesitation.

The guy at her side glanced between them, raising an eyebrow. “Oh… hey,” he said, clearly picking up on the tension in the air. He smiled awkwardly, extending a hand. “I’m Jared. I, uh… guess you’re a neighbor?”

Logan didn’t take his hand, barely sparing him a glance. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and rough. His eyes were fixed on her, searching her face, trying to read her expression.

She shifted uncomfortably, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. “We… just ran into each other downstairs,” she explained, her gaze flicking between Logan and Jared. “He was just walking me up.”

Jared chuckled, clearly oblivious to the undercurrent in the air. “Yeah, thought I’d make sure she got back safe, y’know? This neighborhood’s not exactly the friendliest.”

Logan felt a surge of irritation, but he forced himself to stay calm, to keep his expression neutral. “She can handle herself,” he replied, the words coming out sharper than he intended. He saw her flinch and instantly regretted it, but he couldn’t help the tension coiling in his chest.

Jared blinked, clearly sensing he wasn’t welcome, and took a step back, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “All right, man. No need to get territorial,” he said with a forced laugh. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He turned to her, flashing a hopeful smile. “So… maybe we could catch up tomorrow? Grab a coffee or something?”

She hesitated, glancing briefly at Logan before nodding, though her smile looked a little forced. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll… let you know.”

Jared grinned, clearly taking that as a yes, and gave a little wave before heading back down the stairs. Logan watched him go, barely breathing until the sound of his footsteps faded completely. Only then did he turn to her, his expression softening as he searched her face.

“Did… you need something?” she asked, her gaze lingering on him, one eyebrow raised in quiet suspicion.

Logan cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to knock on her door, but now that he was here, his brain seemed to be working at half-speed.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and forcing himself to meet her eyes. “I was wondering if you had… y’know… some eggs I could borrow.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but he saw the faintest flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Eggs?” she repeated like she was testing the word.

Logan felt himself growing more flustered. “Yeah. Eggs. They’re… good for protein,” he added lamely, the words sounding as awkward out loud as they felt in his head.

She watched him for a moment, clearly trying to decide if she believed him or not. A small, skeptical smile played at the corner of her lips like she could see right through his excuse but was willing to humor him.

“Sure. I think I’ve got some,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “Come in while I go grab them from the kitchen.”

Logan hesitated, then nodded, slipping past her into the apartment. The warmth of her space hit him immediately, and he found himself surprised by how… homey it was. The faint scent of vanilla and something floral hung in the air, and soft lighting cast a cozy glow over everything. It was nothing like the dingy, bare-bones apartment he shared with Wade. Where his walls were chipped and peeling, hers were lined with neatly hung prints and framed photographs, small touches that gave the place a warmth he hadn’t expected.

As she disappeared into the kitchen, he let his gaze wander, taking in the shelves along one wall, filled with books. Dozens of them, all stacked neatly, some with worn covers and dog-eared pages, like they’d been read and re-read over the years. He noticed a mix of genres—mystery novels, classic literature, a few non-fiction titles, and even some poetry. It was the kind of collection that spoke to someone who spent a lot of time alone, lost in worlds beyond these walls.

He moved closer to one of the shelves, fingers ghosting over the spines without touching. A few books were stacked horizontally, others arranged by height. There was a kind of organized chaos to it, a personal touch that made him feel like he was seeing a side of her he hadn’t glimpsed before. He felt a strange pang of… something. Envy, maybe, or admiration. This was her space, her sanctuary, carefully built to be hers. And here he was, intruding on it.

“Didn’t peg you for a reader,” her voice came from behind him, light and teasing.

Logan turned, a bit flustered, caught off guard by her sudden reappearance. She held a carton of eggs in one hand, watching him with that same amused expression, like she knew he was lying about the whole “egg” thing but was willing to let it slide.

“I, uh…” He scratched the back of his head, feeling like he’d been caught red-handed. “Not really. Don’t have time for it.”

She shrugged, giving him a small smile as she set the egg carton on the counter. “Reading isn’t for everyone.”

He nodded, still taking in her apartment, feeling a strange comfort settle over him in the warmth of her space. “It’s… nice in here,” he admitted, his voice gruffer than he intended. “Didn’t expect it to feel so… I don’t know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So what?”

“Homey, I guess,” he said, almost embarrassed to admit it. “My place… it’s nothing like this.”

A faint, sympathetic smile softened her face. “Well, your roommate doesn’t exactly scream ‘homey,’” she teased, glancing around as if imagining Wade sprawled across her carefully arranged furniture, disrupting the calm. “Not really surprised you don’t put much into decorating.”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Yeah. Wade’s more… chaos than cozy.”

She laughed softly, a genuine, relaxed sound that made his chest feel unexpectedly warm. “I can’t even picture him reading a book.”

“Pretty sure he’d complain about the ‘small font’ and give up in five minutes,” Logan muttered, and she laughed again, a light, melodic sound that filled the space in a way that felt… right.

For a moment, they stood there in comfortable silence, the unspoken tension between them somehow lessened by the simple act of sharing a space. He glanced at the egg carton, feeling a little foolish now that he had no real reason to stay.

“Thanks for the eggs,” he mumbled, reaching for the carton but not quite moving to leave. “Didn’t need them, if I’m honest.”

She tilted her head, a knowing look in her eyes. “Yeah, I figured,” she said, her voice gentle but laced with amusement. “So… why did you come by?”

Logan hesitated, feeling a sudden vulnerability he wasn’t used to. “I guess… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. After last night, and then seeing you with that guy this morning…” He trailed off, running a hand over his face. “It just didn’t sit right with me.”

Her expression softened, and she looked down, fingers tracing absent patterns on the counter. “Jared,” she said as if the name left a sour taste. “Monica’s idea. She thinks I need to ‘put myself out there.’” She rolled her eyes, a faint bitterness creeping into her tone. “It’s not really my thing, but… I figured I’d try.”

Logan studied her, catching the flicker of doubt in her eyes. “You didn’t seem too thrilled with him,” he observed, trying to keep his tone casual.

She shrugged, her smile a little sad. “He’s… nice. I just don’t know if ‘nice’ is enough.” She glanced up, meeting his gaze, her eyes holding his for a moment longer than necessary. “I guess I’ve got my own walls. Maybe it’s easier to push people away than to… let them in.”

Logan felt his chest tighten, recognizing himself in her words. “Yeah. I know how that goes,” he murmured, his voice low. “People tend to… make assumptions, think they know you just because of how you look or act. Sometimes it’s easier to let them believe what they want.”

She nodded, her gaze dropping again, her fingers still tracing absent shapes on the counter. “And what do people assume about you?” she asked, almost too softly.

He swallowed, feeling a familiar pang of vulnerability that he usually kept buried. “They see… this,” he said, gesturing to himself, to the rough exterior, the scars that lined his knuckles, the tension that seemed to live in his shoulders. “And they think I’m nothing but that. Just… rough edges. An animal.”

She looked up, her gaze soft and understanding, and he felt that ache again, the need to be seen, really seen. “You’re not just that,” she said quietly, her words barely more than a whisper. “I can see that you're more than that…now.”

A warmth lingered between them, subtle but undeniable. Logan could feel it settling over him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected. Standing here, in her space, surrounded by traces of her life, he felt an unfamiliar sense of belonging—like, for once, he wasn’t just some outsider passing through.

She let out a small sigh, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Anyway,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, almost shy. “Thanks for checking on me.”

He nodded, swallowing back the impulse to reach out, to close the last inch of space between them. “Yeah. Anytime,” he said, his voice softer than he intended.

She led him to the door, holding it open as he stepped into the dim hallway. Logan hesitated, lingering just outside her apartment, feeling a strange reluctance to leave. The words were out of his mouth before he could second-guess himself.

“Would you… maybe want to come over?” He forced a small, awkward smile. “I’m sure Wade would love the company.”

She looked up at him, her expression caught between surprise and something softer. A small smile touched her lips, but she shook her head, a hint of apology in her eyes. “I would, but… being around people sort of… drains me.”

He watched her, sensing there was more she wasn’t saying, something fragile behind the simple explanation.

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the door, her gaze flickering up to meet his. “Not you, though,” she added softly, almost as if the words had slipped out without her permission. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away quickly. “Just… people in general. Introvert thing, I guess.”

Logan felt a flicker of something warm and unfamiliar in his chest. She hadn’t meant to single him out, but the admission hung in the air between them, as delicate and unsteady as a breath. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “No problem.”

She looked back up at him, a softness in her eyes that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to let him in. It wasn’t much—not yet—but it was enough to make his pulse quicken, to make him feel like he’d taken a step closer to something he’d been chasing without even knowing it.

“See you, Logan,” she whispered, her voice lingering in the quiet air, her eyes holding his for just a beat longer than necessary.

“See you,” he replied, his voice equally soft, reluctant. He took a step back, the warmth of her presence already beginning to fade, and gave her a small nod before turning away.

As he made his way down the hallway, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them—a door, barely open, but open nonetheless.

#fic recs ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ #logan howlett x reader

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